


bleed me dry

by eversall, littlemsnerd



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Demons, M/M, Temporary Amnesia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-19
Updated: 2017-05-19
Packaged: 2018-11-02 11:22:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10943496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eversall/pseuds/eversall, https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlemsnerd/pseuds/littlemsnerd
Summary: Clary keeps talking, words rushing out, trying to find anything that will make this whole thing less of a nightmare, but Simon can see in her eyes that nothing is going to make this better. Before she can finish her sentence, Magnus breaks in, voice low and quiet with regret.“The demon took all of his memories of you, Simon. He doesn’t know who you are.”.





	bleed me dry

**Author's Note:**

> from quinn ([littlemsnerd](https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlemsnerd/pseuds/littlemsnerd)):
> 
> whats up fuckers this is The longest thing i have ever written and i couldn’t be more proud of it. maddie i hate u but also thank u so mucj this has been so fucking fantastic and im ready to sleep for 6 days
> 
> anyways be sure to check me out on [tumblr](http://mxgnxsbane.tumblr.com) come scream at me or show me some cool dogs i dont care
> 
> enjoy :)))))
> 
> from maddie ([eversall](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eversall)):
> 
> im screaming this is so many words i'm not actually sure how this happened but anyway y'all....this has been a work of so much love and effort and i love quinn so much for doing this with me she came up with all these sad plot lines tbh you're all lucky it has a happy ending i forgot where i was going with this sentence just quinn is awesome. and after many late nights and writing at weird times of the day here it is. 
> 
> aaaand as always come prompt me/chill with me on [ tumblr ](http://eversall.tumblr.com/)!!!
> 
> note: the one song referenced in the fic is incomplete by james bay.

_i._

_There’s a damning sort of silence on the roof of the Institute, the kind that makes even the traffic from far away sound like an accusation in Jace’s ears._

_“I knew I’d find you here.” Simon says, and Jace turns slightly, just enough to see the vampire make his way across, dressed in fresh clothes. There’s no trace of the blood that had coated his lower chin and throat just hours ago, the proof of his near death - the proof of Jace’s blood running through his veins._

_And why should there be any trace left? He thinks bitterly about Simon spinning Clary around on the front steps, thinks about how good the sunlight looks cutting across Simon’s cheeks, bathing him in a warm light. He’s not sure when the burning embers in his chest suddenly shifted to a low flame of desire for Simon; somewhere in between all the saving and being saved, he’s gone and dug himself into a deeper pit of emotions he doesn’t deserve to have._

_“You’re thinking too hard again.” Simon says, insufferably cheerful, breaking Jace out of his reverie. “You’re predictable, I’ll give you that.” Jace looks at him incredulously, and then he looks back out at the view from the roof, one of his legs dangling off the edge and the other drawn up to under his chin._

_“What do you want, Simon?” he asks, meaning to sound impatient, but it comes out exhausted and defeated._

_“I, uh.” There’s rustling from behind him, and then Simon’s sitting down on the edge near him, close enough that his shoulder is brushing slightly against Jace’s. It’s cold, like everything about the vampire, but it feels solid and reassuring. “To see if you were okay - I figured you’d be wallowing about death, and I wanted to remind you that you went above and beyond in saving my life, so. I just wanted to thank you again for it.”_

_“Once is enough.” Jace says dryly, because despite his shitty day he’ll always be able to tease Simon when the need arises._

_“I mean it.” Simon says, not rising to the bait. “And - I heard what you told Alec, you know. Vampire hearing, and all that.”_

_“What I told Alec?” Jace repeats, sorting through his memories. “You’re going to have to be a bit more specific.”_

_“About you and Clary not being siblings.” Simon says quietly, and Jace inhales sharply. “We broke up, you know. So if you wanted to...yeah. This is my blessing, I guess.”_

_“Why did you do that? I’m sorry, but it’s not as if there are a bunch of girls lining up for you.” Jace bites out, because of course Simon would think that Clary is the one he wants more than anything. He knows that he shouldn’t be saying this, he knows that it’s just mean and cruel but if he’s never going to be happy with Simon why should he be?_

_“Oh. Uh, well - I figured that you would tell her and she would eventually break up with me. So - best to get it over with quickly. And…” Simon trails off, his leg bumping up against Jace’s on the side of the roof as it moves back and forth._

_“And?”_

_“There was - there was someone else. I didn’t want her to get hurt because of my feelings. So.”_

_And of course there’s someone else. Jace doesn’t want to admit that his heart breaks at the confession because he knew that Simon would never return the feelings but it does. Jace feels himself drop slightly, sagging into himself because he is the only comfort he can find now. He wants to say something, anything to break the charged silence between them, but Jace has never been good with words._

_“Oh.” He says, and it’s not nearly enough for everything he wants to say but it’s going to have to do. The events of the day are still fresh in his mind, the dead still vividly at the forefront of his memories. He feels the tension in every cell of his body, wringing him out._

_“Jace.” Simon sighs. “I - this wasn’t supposed to be about that. Are you okay?”_

_“What do you think?” Jace snaps bitterly, unable to help himself. “I - “_

_“Nobody blames you.” Simon says steadily, and there’s a hand on Jace’s shoulder, squeezing reassuringly. “I don’t blame you, and I am a Downworlder. No matter how much I hang out with you guys.”_

_“That shouldn’t be helping me.” Jace mutters, his voice cracking. “I should feel worse for it, your opinion shouldn’t change that.”_ _  
_ _“But it does?” Simon asks, his eyes alight, and Jace looks away, running a hand through his hair._

_“Thank you.” He says in lieu of an answer._

 

ii.

“Demon summonings!” Magnus groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m the son of a demon, and yet I’ve never encountered as many as I have in the last three months spent with this group. Truly, you are all _exceptionally_ skilled in attracting danger.”

“You don’t have to do it.” Alec immediately says, frowning. “No, in fact, you’re not doing it, it’s too risky - “

“Darling, I didn’t say we wouldn’t do it.” Magnus reassures him.

Alec huffs in frustration, but steps back into place when Magnus shoots him a look out of the corner of his eye and squeezes his hand just that much tighter.

They need Belial, a nasty piece of work whose reputation as a twister of words precedes him, even in the Downworld. There’s been some issues with rogue vampires in the Bronx as well as Uptown, and if they’re going to have any chance of stopping them, they need the information from the demon that’s purportedly something of an adviser to them.

It’s nothing they haven’t done before, just as Magnus said, but every demon summoning is always nerve wracking. Jace stands in the corner as usual, arms crossed over his chest and eyebrows set in a grimace as he watches Clary drawing in the center of the room, beating back the thoughts that keep coming at him from all sides.

_I wish Simon was here._

The thought of Simon makes him smile slightly, biting his lower lip as he remembers the conversation they’d been having over text before Jace had gotten to the loft. He doesn’t know where they’re going to go from here, what he’s going to do the next time he sees Simon, but he’s _hopeful_ . It’s a new, fragile, delicate thing, but he thinks - he _knows_ that they could work.

“Earth to Jace?” Izzy calls, snapping her fingers. “What, are you gonna summon the demon from over there?”

“I’m just _that_ good.” He confirms, grinning as he walks nearer to the pentagram. Clary stands up, brushing chalk dust from her hands, and gives him a look. “Yeah, yeah, I’m taking this seriously.”

“Places, everyone. You all know the drill.” Magnus says, walking over to the circle and taking his spot on the top point, holding out his hands and looking expectantly at Alec. The rest of them follow slowly, Jace being the last one in his spot. He never really gets nervous on these type of things, but today is weird. There’s something in the back of his mind and in his gut, saying - no, almost screaming at him that there is something wrong, that something very bad is going to happen very soon.

He shakes his head in an attempt to brush it off and focuses back on the circle, Alec on his left, Izzy on his right. Silently, he watches Magnus start the summoning, Latin rolling off of his tongue and falling into the middle of the circle. The pentagram opens up like a flower, designs branching from the middle disappearing into the floor as a grey hole opens up, smoke slowly creeping out and snaking out across the space.

Belial is known for his honeyed tongue, for _appearing_ nicer than most demons. Jace guesses that’s why the man that rises gracefully out of the hole seems to look like a normal, middle-aged man, tall and imposing but certainly not frightening.

“Ah,” Belial whispers, and Jace winces because _there_ it is - the voice sounds like nails across a chalkboard - “summoned by Shadowhunters? How...interesting. It’s been so long since I toyed with an angel, since I was given the chance to bleed something holy - ”

Magnus says something in Latin, then, and Belial scowls as he whirls in his circle and faces Magnus down.  

“Son of Asmodeus.” He growls. “I should have known no lesser power could summon me. Very well, what do you ask of me?”

“You are giving the Children of the Night information.” Magnus booms, his voice magically amplified. “You will give that information to us.”

Something dark and ancient twists in Belial’s face, and his form flickers, shifting into something massive and winged, dark claws extended threateningly and a face with craggy teeth growling at them.

“The _Children of the Night_ ,” Belial spits out, “know _nothing_ . They came to me with foolish dreams of grandeur, and I answered their questions in a way such that their dreams will seem possible - but they _will_ die.”

“Tell us what you told them.” Magnus commands, and Belial _shrieks_ , growing taller and taller before he flickers back to his human form.

“Surely,” Belial says in a gentler tone, pursing his lips, “you don’t expect to get the information for free?”

“Name your price.” Magnus says slowly, eyes like hardened steel. “You know the rules.”

“Of course, nothing physical, nothing permanent, etcetera, etcetera.” Belial hisses, forked tongue flicking out, snakelike and sinister. His slitted eyes dart around the circle and linger on everyone there, assessing in the coldest of ways. As he reaches Clary, he steps forward, reaching out a calloused hand as if to cup her chin

“Know your place, or I shall make it known.” Magnus thunders out, arms tensing with the effort it takes to keep the circle closed. Belial lets out a low growl, and steps back, reluctantly. As he continues around the circle, the demon seems to change, feet disappearing into a grey haze, teeth growing longer and sharper with every turn around.

After his fourth time around the circle, the demon finally stops in front of Jace. His eyes gleam red in the low light, and Jace feels his gut scream even louder, _get out getoutgetOUT_.

“Hmm. And what do we have here?” Belial sneers, mouth curling up into a smirk. “You should have mentioned you had... _ties_ to a night child.”

“I don’t have to tell you anything.” Jace spits out, feeling a pull in his stomach at the obvious mention of Simon; the way the demon’s voice caresses the word _ties_ has Jace tensing.  

“Oh my, you’re quite the firecracker, aren’t you now!”

“What do you want from us?” Jace asks, the hard tone of his voice belaying how anxious he is to get back to normality - whatever that is at this point. “Take your payment and leave.”

“Jace, no - “ Magnus shouts, and Jace turns confusedly to the warlock - but it’s too late. Belial is stalking forward, his form shifting and rippling into someone Jace is much more familiar with it.

“Ah, Shadowhunter, that counts as consent for a demon.” Belial gloats in Simon’s voice, Simon’s lips forming the words and turning up in an unfamiliar smirk that looks perverse on his face.

The demon walks right up to Jace, breath ghosting cold and alien against his cheeks, and everything about this is just _wrong_ but Jace can’t move; instead, he stands there, helplessly watching as the demon’s eyes track up and down, eyeing him greedily like he’s a cow before slaughter.

Simon’s - no, the demon’s - hand comes up to rest on Jace’s shoulder as he stands rooted to the ground, some force larger than life holding him in place, and he can hear Magnus beginning to shout at the demon before it lunges forward and kisses Jace.

It’s nothing like he wanted it to be. He wanted it to be slow and steady, a culmination of everything that they’ve been through, and this is not that. This is rough and fast, Jace’s hands caught in the others between him while Simon - no, _Belial_ pulls him closer. He kisses like he's eating Jace, like he wants to devour him and everything about him, and it’s _painful_ and feels like it’s tearing his soul from his mouth. Jace just wants this to stop, for everything to go back to how it was before they opened the portal, back to the comfort of texting - someone -

He had been texting someone, right? Simo...Si...Someone with a name starting with an S. Jace was positive. Someone who meant something, a person he associated with a feeling of - what was it - just out of reach -  

Everyone else watches in blind horror as a strange blue film begins to flow out of Jace’s chest and straight into the demon’s head. It’s like watching a technicolor love story, through Jace’s eyes; meeting Simon for the first time, being pushed against the wall by him, calling his name in a voice thick with regret, the surge of overwhelming affection that hit him every time he made Simon grin, the complete devastation when he’d seen Simon broken and bleeding, laughing with Simon, talking with Simon, a thousand memories of Simon’s eyes and bright, quick smile -  every last thing ripped from his chest and sucked straight into Belial’s mind, even as Magnus shouts a steady stream of Latin and Alec screams “ _Jace, don’t_!”

The stream slowly comes to a halt, the last memory of the last conversation they had slipping into the open air and into the demon. Belial breaks the kiss and steps back from Jace, eyes glinting with terrible excitement as he stares at Jace one last time.

“Shadowhunter. Do you recognize me?” Belial asks, almost like it’s a test, almost teasingly, spreading his arms wide in the shape of a boy with thick brown hair and intelligent brown eyes, sneering all the while.

Jace looks confused and scared as he shakily replies “No - I don’t. Should I?” He doesn’t know who it is, just knows that he feels exhausted, like he’s had a part of his soul ripped out. He’s not sure what just happened, but it can’t have been good.

The demon throws his head back and lets out a deep laugh, sending a shiver up the spine of everyone in the circle.

“Belial, what have you done?” Magnus shouts, shooting a worried glance at Jace before focusing back on the demon at hand.

“Oh, nothing painful, I promise.” The demon sneers, turning back into his prior form. “I simply removed all of the memories he had of the vampire. Quite appropriate, yes? You seek information, so I removed all of what he had on that vampire.”

“I said nothing physical!” Magnus growls back, a worrying feeling that he might not be able to quickly fix this beginning to grow in his chest.

“And it was not! Now, before I change my mind, here is your information.” Belial flicks a hand carelessly at Magnus, a light red ball rolling from his fingers and ramming into Magnus’ chest, pushing him back a step before sinking into him.

“Now, if there’s nothing else you require, I shall be taking my leave, yes? Wonderful. Truly, it’s been a pleasure.” The demon smirked, turning around the circle one last time before eyes landing on Jace once again. “Oh, and before I forget -”

As he finishes the sentence, another ball of dark red magic appears in his hands, and Belial looks at it quickly, grinning, before shoving it into Jace’s chest and diving back into the hole in the circle. The force holding them in place breaks as soon as he’s all the way through, the circle dissipating, and Jace collapses onto the floor.

“Jace!” Izzy shouts, and she falls to the ground besides him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and hauling him up. He forgets how strong his sister actually is, he thinks dizzily as he leans into her warmth, clutching his aching head.

“What did he do to me?” Jace rasps out. Magnus snaps his fingers and hands him a glass of water that he takes gratefully and gulps down.

“What were you _thinking_ , just telling the demon to take anything?” Magnus asks, his voice tight. “Just because he appeared in the shape of Simon - “

“That’s who that was?” Jace asks, his brow furrowed in confusion. Clary arches an eyebrow at him. “Who’s Simon?”

“Simon.” Alec says slowly, like he’s not quite sure where this conversation is going. “Daylighter Simon? The one that came as a package deal with Fray?” Jace stares blankly at him, and Alec frowns; through the parabatai bond, Jace can feel Alec’s trepidation mounting exponentially. “The vampire?”

A white-hot surge of anger flashes through Jace, sudden and disarmingly intense. He doesn’t know _who_ they’re talking about, but he knows with an unexpected clarity that whoever it is - he deserves to die.

 

_iii._

_“Turn with the brakes,” Simon instructs, “not the gas. Don’t hit the gas.”_

_“Okay,” Jace says slowly, peering at the street corner and hitting the gas as he turns. “Fuck!” From beside him, Simon lets out a similar expletive and slams on the passenger-side brakes. Luke got them this student driver car out of the NYPD impound lot after Jace wrecked yet another one of his beloved trucks._

_“You are going to learn how to drive,” Luke had said, staring Jace down, “or so help me God I will make you learn how to use the public transit system instead.”_

_“Let’s not get violent.” Jace had responded, horrified, and then enlisted Simon’ s help to teach him the basics._

_Which brings them to their present situation. Turns out, Jace’s habit of just slamming the gas pedal to get where he wants? Yeah, not the greatest idea._

_“You have successfully taken ten years off my life.” Simon gasps out, clutching the steering wheel with one hand and his unbeating heart with the other. “I’m going to die.”_

_“You’re a vampire.” Jace points out churlishly, already grumpy and not quite getting the hang of driving. “I’m the one with a limited, more valuable life-span.”_

_“Mm hm.” Simon says in a tone that he’s not taking Jace seriously. “Let’s try something else. Um, your blade. When you see an enemy, what do you do?”_

_“I swing it at them.” Jace says, arching an eyebrow. Simon scowls._

_“Bear with me, I promise it makes sense.” He protests. “Alright, that jump-slash you like to do so often. When you bring your blade towards the downward arc of the slash, what do you do?”_

_“How do you know so much about my technique?” Jace asks him, bewildered. “Do you just check me out all the time when you’re supposed to be helping?” Simon looks like a deer caught in the headlights, biting his lips in a way that shouldn’t be that adorable, it really shouldn’t - “Oh!” Jace exclaims, the idea clicking in his head. “Momentum pushes the blade forward, I don’t put any power behind it after the initial thrust. Oh, that makes sense. Roll forward with the brake.” He muses._

_“Exactly!” Simon grins at him. “Try that right turn again?”_

_Jace smiles back at him, and for a second everything else falls to the side; it’s just two friends in a car, just Simon teaching Jace how to drive, beaming at him like Jace is the sole focus of his world. It’s genuine, a moment where they forget to snark at each other, and the way Simon looks so proud - Jace could get used to this. He wants to get used to it._

 

iv. 

They leave Jace in the main room while they discuss the information on the vamps that they’ve acquired. He should mind, but he can’t bring himself to because there it is again; that blinding rage that he had felt earlier. Jace feels his hands clench tighter, nails digging into the palms of his hands. It subsides quickly, just like it had before, but it still leaves him shaken. Ever since they came out of the summoning, nobody will look at him directly, like he’s contagious or something. It’s only been worried half-glances and stares from the corner of their eyes. He doesn’t understand what happened in there; he can only remember a brief flashes of red eyes and soft lips.

His train of thought is interrupted by the others coming back out of the study, talking in low voices. He only catches snippets of what they’re saying, but what he does hear makes his heart drop to his stomach.

“...complete loss…”

“Simon...devastated.”

“...gone forever.”

“What? What’s gone forever?” Jace demands, rising off of the couch and walking over to the group standing by the door.

They jump apart quickly, no one daring to make eye contact except for Magnus, who murmurs “Jace...I’m so sorry.”

“What? Magnus, what are you talking about?” Jace asks again, fear digging itself deeper and deeper into his heart.

“Jace, when you told the demon to take his payment, you gave him permission to do whatever he wanted to you.” Magnus said gently, eyes shimmering with pity. “He took your memories of...of someone you cared for greatly.”

Jace looks at him in confusion, trying to sort through his mind and figure out who Magnus is talking about. But trying to look for someone he isn’t supposed to remember doesn’t work, and the only thing he can find is a black void, no memories of anyone or anything at all. It’s like try to catch water with his fingers; it’s _there_ , he can feel something he’s missing, but he can’t quite wrap his head around what it is.  

“Wh - what’s going to happen to me?”

“Nothing, I promise. However, you...may never get those memories back. Again, I am so sorry Jace.” Magnus puts a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to reassure him, but Jace barely notices it, a sudden ringing in his ears as he realizes that there’s an entire chunk of his life just _missing_ . He’s trying to sort through everything that just happened, his mind going a thousand miles an hour without anything actually sticking, a sinking feeling settling over him that _he fucked up, he lost something he needs it back -_

“Jace.” Alec’s voice breaks through the haze, firm and insisting. “We should get back to the Institute.”

Jace nods quickly, still not quite able to grasp everything. Magnus casts a look at Alec, and he gives a small nod in response, prompting Magnus to open a portal in the middle of the room. Clary and Izzy step through quickly, tossing looks over their shoulder before disappearing completely. Alec wraps Magnus is a tight hug before pulling back and whispering something that Jace is too far away to hear. He pulls away and steps through the portal, and Jace is quick to follow; before he can step through, Magnus catches his shoulder.

“Jace - good luck.”

Jace looks at him one last time before stepping through the portal and into the control room of the Institute. The usual activity doesn’t stop at all with the arrival of the four of them, people still running around with clipboards and tablets, conferring in various groups around the room. Jace takes it in slowly, the familiarity of it all sinking into his bones and leaving him a little more relaxed. Alec, Izzy, and Clary all look at each other before looking at Jace. They have the same pitying look on their face that’s been there since the circle broke, and Jace is getting quite fucking tired of being pitied, his irritation growing with every reminder that they know something he doesn’t. Before he can say anything, though, Clary speaks first, her eyes widening as she’s hit with a realization.

“We need to tell Simon. Like, right now - “ She starts, before they hear a sound.

“What do you need to tell me?” Simon appears right behind Clary, vampire speed blurring him until he’s right alongside the group, looking confused. “Sorry, vampire hearing.”

“Simon, we need to ta -” Before Izzy can finish her sentence, Simon’s gone. They hear a grunt of pain from behind them, and as they whirl around they see _exactly_ how bad the situation is.

Simon’s up against the wall, Jace caging him in with a forearm on his shoulder - and a knife at his neck.

 

 _v_.

_“Loser buys the next round.” Jace says, grinning as he sinks yet another shot. Simon scowls adorably over the table, his cheeks flushed from the blood-infused beer and sangria he’s been downing._

_“No fair,” Simon peers at him, “you’re a Shadowhunter. You have impeccable aim!” He pauses, then, and looks unbelievable pleased with himself. “I can’t be drunk, I just said the word impeccable.”_

_“You’re a vampire.” Jace says incredulously, lining up the cue ball again. “You can’t tell me that doesn’t put you at as much of an advantage as being Shadowhunter.”_

_“Hm.” Simon says, his voice thoughtful, and Jace looks up to see that Simon’s got a strange glint in his eyes and an excited smirk playing around his mouth._

_“I don’t like that look.” He says warily, “What - “ Quick as a flash, Simon’s zipped around the table and sank all of the striped balls as well as the eight-ball, moving too fast for Jace to catch anything other than a blur shoving things into the pockets. He stares blankly down the edge of his stick at a significantly less-cluttered pool table. “What.” He repeats blankly._

_“I used my vampire abilities, just like you suggested.” Simon says happily, perched on the edge of the table. “Looks like drinks are on you, Jace.”_

_“You cheated!” Jace says incredulously. “Unbelievable.”_

_“Better believe it.” Simon sings, and his eyes are full of mirth as he looks at Jace. Jace rolls his eyes and hides his smile as he mirrors Simon’s pose and leans against the table._

_“Hey, remember when we went to get ingredients for Magnus and you held a knife to my throat?” He teases. “I think you owe me drinks.”_

_“Wow, remember when you slammed me, the fragile mundane, to the ground seconds after that? What a jerk, you definitely owe me drinks.” Simon shoots back. “I’m thinking expensive, too, like O-neg margaritas or something.”_

_Jace shakes his head and shoves lightly at Simon as he goes past him to go to the bar. “Greedy.” He chides, and Simon laughs as he pulls his phone out and waves Jace off._

_“Nice date you two have got going on.” Maia says her chin propped up in her hands as she smirks at him from over the bar. “Now, my question is, do either of you know you’re on a date?”_

_“Shut up.” Jace says with feeling, his cheeks flushing. “I just need drinks, why is service at this bar always abysmal?”_

_“Mm, well, you know how it is - those of us with stronger noses can definitely smell the Eau du Jackass coming off of you in waves.” She says back to him without missing a beat. Her hands are moving under the counter, though, mixing a drink for Simon and sliding him a refill on his beer. “You should just tell him, you know.”_

_“No thanks, I’d rather die.” Jace says with a straight face. Maia scowls at him as she leaves to serve another customer, and he grins to himself. Now that things have settled a bit more - or as settled as things ever are around here - he and Maia have reached an easy truce of constantly belittling each other. She looks out for him, even if she won’t admit it, and he tries to do the same._

_He turns with the drinks in his hand to see Simon look up from his phone and meet his gaze across the room._

_“Loser!” Simon calls out to him, his voice bubbly and cheerful like it gets after a few drinks - honestly, he’s such a lightweight - “Get over here with my drinks, you’re so slow.”_

_“Aw, super-speed acting up again?” Jace calls back sweetly. Before he can leave, though, Maia stops him._

_“Jace,” She calls, and he turns around again to see her polishing a glass, “you’re good for him, you know?” He frowns at her, bemused, but she continues. “As someone who’s a little more unbiased than your siblings or Clary, I’m telling you that you make him better. And God knows he makes you a much nicer person.”_

_And, well, Jace can’t really argue with that._

 

_vi._

Simon’s back is to the wall, the cold glint of steel against the fragile skin of his neck. He feels strangely disoriented, staring at this caricature of Jace, a fury etched onto the other man’s face that he hasn’t seen aimed at him, ever.

“Jace,” Simon rasps out, struggling to get his throat working as Jace snarls and presses closer, “please, what - “

“Shut _up_ .” Jace spits out, his eyes glinting - a flash of red again - as he presses his arm harder against Simon’s chest, effectively trapping him. Simon blinks back a sudden onslaught of tears as he takes in the man of his dreams glaring at him with no affection in his eyes at all; this is so far from the realms of what he expected today, especially after their conversation not an hour ago, he’d just _hoped -_

But of course, he thinks as Jace presses the blade that much closer, a sharp prick of pain searing through him, it was foolish for Simon Lewis to hope.

“ _Jace_!” Alec thunders, pulling Jace off of Simon and bodily shoving him aside. Clary, and - surprisingly - Raj appear next to Simon with their blades drawn, putting themselves in front of him and shielding him from Jace, who’s scrambled up and is being restrained by Alec from jumping Simon.

“What the hell is happening?” Simon asks, his voice shaky as he passes his hand over his throat, his fingers coming away stained red from the slight trickle of blood across the cut on his neck.

“I don’t know, man.” Raj says, glancing back at him. “Always something crazy with you guys, but I’m not about to lose my chess partner because Wayland’s a psycho.”  
“He’s not a psycho.” Simon automatically mutters, sighing. “Raj, you _never_ think before you speak.”

“Considering Jace just tried to _kill you_ ,” Clary says, her voice tight, “I hate to say it but I actually agree with Raj on this.”

“ _What_ is your problem?” Alec exclaims, his grip on his brother’s arms tightening as they struggle.

“Let me _go_ , Alec.” Jace grits out.

“If you promise not to _kill anyone_!’ Alec says, and Jace grunts his assent as Alec lets him go. Simon tenses, but Jace stays where he is, glaring daggers at Simon.

“Why are you trying to kill Simon?” Izzy asks, her whip held loosely in her hands. Jace’s throat works, but no sound comes out. There’s a damning sort of silence as Jace looks away, furious, and then back again.

“I don’t know.” He admits, his voice tight. “All I know is that he’s - I just - I have to, I can’t let him just _walk around_.”

“That’s exactly what you’re going to do.” Alec says, his voice hard as he stares his brother down. “Give me your sword.”

“What? Are you crazy? I need it.” Jace shoots back, a dumbfounded look on his face. “And besides, what if that _thing_ tries something? No, I’m not giving you my sword.”

Simon feels his heart shatter, because if the knife against his throat had hurt, then this was like having a limb ripped off. The way Jace had spat out the word, as if Simon wasn’t even deserving of a title - he doesn’t think anything could have hurt him more. What the _fuck_ is going on?

“Jace, wha - I don’t understand - we’re _friends_ , remember?” He tries, even as his throat tightens and his hands curl into fists, because maybe this is a dream, maybe it isn’t real, _please_ don’t let it be real. But he can feel every single nail digging into his skin, can still feel the fading sting of the cut on his throat, and he knows that this is heartbreakingly, terrifyingly real. Jace whirls around to him once again as Alec wrestles the blade out of his hand, face distorted into a horrible snarl, and Simon feels like whatever this thing is, it certainly isn’t the Jace that he had fallen for.

“How _dare_ you.” This perversion of Jace growls, advancing closer with every word, step by step, red eyes flashing wildly. “I would never, _ever_ be caught with Downworld scum like you, let alone be friends with them. You _disgust_ me.”

With every word that escapes from Jace’s mouth, Simon’s heart sinks deeper and deeper, and he wants nothing more than to curl up into a hole and cry, stay there until he turns to dust and ashes and crumbles away, because even that would be less painful than this. Jace has him backed up against the wall again, faces only inches apart. If this had happened on any other day, at any other time, Simon probably would’ve kissed him.

But this is here and now in this nightmare, so instead he shoves Jace back with all of his strength, sending him sprawling out on the floor in front of Alec. Simon stands there for just a second too long, trying to figure out if he can even _fix_ what just happened, before the echo of Jace spitting _that thing_ hits him again, and he speeds out of the Institute into the night.

 

_vii._

_Jace moves slowly, with every turn of the blade carefully placed and practiced, a dance that he’s spent years perfecting. The training room is empty save for him, and the only sounds that dominate the large room are his breaths. He’s been in here for what seems like thirty minutes, but is actually closer to three hours._

_He does this sometimes. Well, more than sometimes. He’ll just lose himself in the training, in the swipe of the blade and the burn of his muscles. It all narrows down to right here, right now, and in a world where he rarely gets time to himself, he makes sure to make it last as long as possible._

_“You’d think you’d be tired of training if you’ve been doing it since you were born.” A voice breaks through his focus, echoing loudly in the quiet room. Jace drops the blade and turns around, a grin breaking wide over his face because he’d know that voice anywhere._

_“Well, you know what they say. I am, in fact, a show off.” he replies, walking over to where Simon is leaning against the doorframe, hands in his pockets, mirth gleaming in his eyes._

_“Ah, yes, because showing off to an empty room is exactly what that means.” Simon laughs, and Jace can’t help the warm feeling expanding in his chest with that sound. “Truly, an amazing display.”_

_“Yeah? I’d like to see you do better.” Jace jokes back, looking Simon up and down with an exaggerated expression of disbelief._

_“Come at me, man.” Simon responds, pushing past Jace to cross over to the weapons cabinet and pulling out two staffs. He tosses one to Jace, who catches it without a second glance. “I’m gonna beat your ass.”_

_“Sure, Simon. Whatever helps you sleep at night.” Jace shoots back, grin growing impossibly wider as he takes a defensive stance, with his arms coming up with the staff and his body dropping back onto his heels, just like he always does._

_Simon moves suddenly, vampire speed blurring his movement up to Jace as the staff comes down hard next to his chest. Luckily, Jace has had more than a few encounters with vampires, so he counters easily, pushing the wooden stick up and away from him. Simon stops running, and they start to circle each other, trying - and failing - to keep the grins off of their faces._

_“Wow, I’m devastated, I don’t know how I’m going to beat you.” Jace says sarcastically, eyes narrowing playfully at Simon as he tries to figure out his next step._

_They move in synchronous steps, staffs coming up to meet each other in an X between them before quickly pulling apart and connecting elsewhere. The room is filled with the clacking of sticks and the hard breathing of both, even though Simon really doesn’t need to. The wood moves in a blur, ends coming up to block one another before immediately swinging back down to attack open spots. As the sparring wears on, Jace comes to realize that Simon is quite an adept fighter, moving quickly and carefully. He really has been practicing, Jace thinks to himself, letting a small grin break out over his face._

_However, Jace also realizes that he is much better with the whole strategy aspect, which leads to Simon getting smacked hard in the shoulder and stumbling backwards. He starts to fall, and as his hands reach out for something to steady himself on, the only thing around is, of course, Jace, who is in turn pulled down on top of him._

_They collapse on the floor in a tangle of limbs and staffs, Jace landing on top of Simon who lets out a groan from the sudden weight._

_They stay like that for a moment, looking at each other in shock, before both of them burst out in laughter, chests tightening and eyes shutting. It’s not malicious or jeering; it’s friendly, and Jace feels lighter than he has in a long time, amusement warring with fondness as he opens his eyes and looks down at Simon, chuckling._

_“Classic clumsy Lewis.” He teases gently, his hair falling in his face as he props himself up over Simon, his forearms on either side of Simon’s shoulders._

_“In my defense, I took you down.” Simon smiles winningly at him, his collar askew and his hand still twisted the front of Jace’s top from the fall. “This means that I won our sparring match.”_

_“That,” Jace says, shaking his head impatiently as his hair refuses to cooperate with him and falls into his eyes, “is not even close to what it means to win.”_

_“Oh, I don’t know.” Simon says, eyes tracking Jace’s movements as he balances one arm on the floor and uses the other to tuck his hair behind his ear. Jace suddenly becomes overwhelmingly aware of how close they are, one of his knees wedged between Simon’s thighs and their torsos barely brushing each other. He swallows convulsively as Simon’s gaze burns through him, unfamiliarly intense, and he suddenly thinks, absurdly, that if he pushed his leg up just a little higher and pressed his hips down -_

_“Simon.” Jace says lowly, unsure. Simon blinks and his eyes clear as he smiles slowly at Jace, real and disarmingly sweet._

_“I think I’ve won something, at least.” Simon says quietly, and Jace chuckles as he rolls off of Simon and gets up. The sight of Simon - like always - makes it a little easier to breathe, a little easier to quiet the screaming in his head._

 

ix.

Jace lies on the floor, stunned from what just happened, only registering the hand extended to him when someone calls his name.

“Jace!” He shakes himself out of the reverie and grabs it, pulling himself up to eye level with Clary. He searches her face for a moment, trying to figure out what she’s thinking, before she makes that abruptly clear by slapping him in the face.

“What the _actual_ fuck, Jace?” She says, her voice furious and her eyes blazing. “I don’t know what that demon did to you but _Simon_ is suffering for it. This isn’t you.”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Jace says, rubbing his hand against his stinging cheek. “You slapping me feels pretty familiar. I feel like myself.”

He almost sees Izzy’s slap coming, but she’s too quick and he hisses with pain as his cheek smarts.

“This isn’t the time to _joke_ .” She snarls at him. “You just tried to kill one of your closest friends, a _vampire_ to boot. Even if you’ve turned into a heartless bastard, you should at least understand that you’re violating the Accords!”

“Fuck the Accords!” Jace spits out, and the Shadowhunters gathered around them flinch back, their eyes narrowing. “De-rune me for all I care, Simon needs to _die_ .” Clary moves to slap him again, but Alec grabs her hand and stops her, staring hard at Jace.

“Just Simon?” He asks, and Jace glares.

“Yes.” He confirms. “Simon is just - don’t you see, that he needs to be stopped? He’s a fucking monster!”

“You _absolute bastard_ \- “ Clary begins to scream, but Alec cuts her off.

“The demon!” he says. “That last bit of magic - it must have done something to him. Something that has to do with Simon.”

“That can’t be possible.” Izzy says, her brow furrowed in confusion. “Or - is it?”

“Will you _stop talking about me like I’m not here_ !” Jace bellows. “I don’t _know_ what the demon did, and _no one_ seems to want to tell me!” He’s exhausted and still stinging from the humiliation of his siblings opposing him when he _knows_ he’s right. There’s a blind well of rage sitting in him, every instinct screaming at him to take his sword back from Alec, run until he finds Simon and kill him in the worst way possible.  

“Not here.” Alec mutters, giving the gathered crowd a look. “Everyone back to your missions, you all have something to do. We’ll take care of this.” They all grumble, but at a severe look from him they scatter, all except for Raj, who’s hovering, frowning at them.

“What?” Izzy snaps.

“I, uh,” Raj casts a look at Jace, “Someone should be assigned to guard the...goods. The, uh, sensitive materials.”

“You can say Simon.” Jace snaps. “I’m not going to do anything to _you_ for housing a blood-sucking traitor.”

“Do _not_ test me, Wayland” Raj says, a shadow passing over his face as he straightens up and seems to suddenly tower above them. “I know it’s all Lightwoods around here, all the time, but Simon’s my friend as well.” His hand falls to the hilt of his blade, reminding them all that he’s just as capable as they are.

“Raj, can you send a message to Luke’s pack and Raphael’s clan about what happened? I don’t want any of this getting out to the Downworld before we know exactly what’s going on.” Alec asks, intervening before Jace can respond to Raj. Raj gives a short nod, glaring once at Jace before leaving. “Clary, I assume you want to go to Simon and let him know what’s happening.”

“Tell that monster if he shows his face here again, I’ll rip his arms off.” Jace growls, shaking with all of the pent up rage flowing from the center of his chest.  

“If you say one more thing, I swear to _God -_.” She starts, advancing up to him before giving Jace a look. “Look, Jace, just...good luck. If you really have forgotten Simon, God - I’m so sorry.” She leaves then, her steps swift and sure, and something about the tone of her voice has Jace’s heart sinking.

“Everyone keeps apologizing to me.” He says hollowly, slowly feeling the tension melting from his body and instead leaving him bone tired. “I don’t understand.”

“Come on.” Alec puts a gentle hand on his back, steering him towards his room. “Let’s figure this out.”

 

_x._

_Jace knocks on the doors to the boathouse, eyes focusing on the ground and stomach twisting itself into nervous knots. He never really thought he’d be here, doing this, but it’s happening, and well, Jace never was all that good at making decisions._

_His head jerks up as he hears the doors groan open, and feels that familiar tug in the bottom of his stomach as Simon appears in the doorway. His hand subconsciously comes up to the back of his neck, dragging his nails up and down just so that his hands have something else to do._

_“Jace, uh. Clary’s not here, I think she’s with Luke -” Simon says quizzically, brows coming together and furrowing._

_He always looks so cute when he does that._

_Jace closes his eyes hard, trying to push the thought away, because that’s not why he’s here and damn it, he needs to focus right now._

_“Yeah - I know. I actually, uh. Well, I actually came to see you?” It comes out like a question, because Jace isn’t even sure why he’s actually doing this._

_“Oh. Um - okay. Well, come in, I guess.” Simon says, his hands tapping out an irregular rhythm on the door as he swings it wider, staring at Jace in confusion. Jace strides in, taking in the sparse surroundings._

_Even here, there are hints of Simon - one of those inane band posters that seem to spawn wherever Simon goes, a blood cooler with a smiley face sticker on it, a guitar propped up in the corner. It’s infuriating, the way Simon takes any space given to him and makes the best of it, smiling all the while._

_Jace couldn’t do it, if it were him._

_“Can I just say this is weird?” Simon says quickly, and Jace turns to face him, fixing him with a severe look. Simon balks. “Okay, I now realize in hindsight I shouldn’t have said that, this...isn’t weird?”_

_“We hang out at the Institute all the time.” Jace points out._

_“Yeah, because I have to be there.” Simon says, sweeping his arms out to gesture at the boathouse. “You don’t have to be here.” Jace shrugs, choosing not to say anything to that._

_“What do you do around here? Don’t you get bored?” He asks, looking for anything remotely entertaining. Simon shrugs._

_“Most of my gaming systems are at home.” He says. “Raphael comes by here sometimes to train me, but I go to the DuMort more often anyway because if the sun comes up Raphael won’t be stuck if we’re at the DuMort. Luke stops by, and Clary, of course.”_

_“I didn’t ask for a roll call of people that enter the boathouse.” Jace says, idly kicking at a crate with his boot and peering interestedly at it when it doesn’t budge.”I asked what you do.”_

_“Honestly, just sleep or eat.” Simon says thoughtfully. “The crate’s full of bricks, stop kicking it like an idiot.”_

_“Good to know.” Jace says, as he sits on the crate instead, peering up at Simon. “So what were you going to do now before I showed up?” Simon throws his hands up in the air._

_“Anyone ever tell you you’re real annoying?” He grumps. “I was going to listen to some music and then head to bed.”_

_“Hm.” Jace says. “Show me the music, then. Still sleeping in the boat, I see.” Simon glares at him, refusing to move._

_“My speakers are broken, and I only have one pair of earphones, which are up there,” he gestures up at one of the canoes, the one overflowing with blankets, “because I thought I was going to sleep.”_

_“Fine!” Jace says shortly, standing up as he glares. “I guess I’ll just go, then, since hanging out with me is that difficult for you.” He spins on his heel and walks to the door, his heart in his throat and a sudden wave of emotions inexplicably welling up in him._

_“No, Jace - “ Simon uses his strength and speed to catch up to Jace and place a firm hand on his wrist. “What’s really going on? We can hang out, just - be honest with me.”_

_Jace is silent for a long time, the cloud of heavy anxiety that he’s been shoving into the corner of his mind all day finally catching up with him, making his shoulders slump as every bit of fight seeps out of him. He’s exhausted, like always, his head heavy with the ever-growing list of crimes he seems to commit unwittingly._

_“I couldn’t sleep.” He admits hoarsely, and he feels Simon’s fingers tighten briefly on his wrist before they slip away._

_“Come on.” Simon’s voice sounds, and Jace turns to see Simon eyeing the canoe critically. “I’ve got an idea.”_

_He jumps into the canoe and begins to throw blankets and pillows to the ground, scattering them on the floor. Jace watches on, bemused, as Simon jumps down again and begins to snatch everything up, arranging them against the wall, his movements blurred as he speeds through the motions._

_“Ta-da!” Simon grins, the dorky, over-eager smile that has Jace’s heart skipping a beat. “Come on, sit. I’m going to give you a crash course education in music.” He seats himself against the pillows, pulling a blanket over his legs, patting the spot next to him. Jace hesitates, then walks over._

_“This better be good, Lewis.” He says, with no real heat, pausing as he tries to figure out how he’s supposed to sit in the fluffy monstrosity Simon’s wiggling comfortably into._

_“Boots off.” Simon scolds idly, scrolling through his phone. “Honestly, were you raised in a barn?”_

_Jace scowls, but obediently unlaces his boots and toes them off. He lines them up by the edge of the blanket, then hesitates and shrugs off his jacket as well, carefully folding it and laying it over his boots._

_“Jacket’s coming off, serious business.” Simon leers, and Jace rolls his eyes as he rolls the sleeves of his henley up and sits down, back sinking into the mountain of pillows. Simon’s eyes flick briefly to Jace’s forearms, linger for a moment too long, and then glance away. Jace pretends he doesn’t see it, biting his lip as something unbearably hopeful in his chest grows._

_“Here.” Simon instructs, holding out an earphone. “We’re going to start with some good old fashioned Ed Sheeran. Guy has the same basic melody, but he’s a damn genius with words.”_

_“Hm.” Jace says idly as he takes it and fits it in his ear. “So, unlike you.” He tugs one of the blankets over his legs as Simon smacks his shoulder._

_“So rude, it’s unbelievable.” Simon says, settling back and shifting closer to Jace so their arms brush together. “We’re gonna start with his most recent album, because I bought it and then Rebecca stole it from me - “_

_“Rebecca?” Jace asks as a soulful voice begins to sing into his ear._

_“Oh!” Simon shifts, turning his head to meet Jace’s gaze and grin. “My sister. Just the worst person alive, but she would get along with Izzy so well, listen - “_

_Simon tells him stories about Rebecca, and Jace responds with stories about Alec, Izzy, and Max. Simon’s funny, and Jace finds himself snickering despite himself. But it’s late, and he’s already dead on his feet from the mission he went on today; somewhere between Ed Sheeran crooning about being happier with someone else and the story of how Rebecca once tricked the entire school into voting her prom queen, Jace dozes off. He hasn’t slept peacefully in weeks, but his body suddenly decides that it’s safe here and he’s out cold._

_He’s vaguely aware of a hand on his shoulder, a soft voice trying to shake him awake, and then the same voice making a phone call - “Yeah, he’s here...he’s safe, probably come around tomorrow - no, we’re not - Clary, for fucks sake it’s - not like that. Completely innocent“_

_Not innocent, Jace’s tired brain supplies, because while Simon might not have designs on him, he certainly has - something - for Simon. But he doesn’t say any of it, just presses deeper into the warmth around him, his head tucked against something solid and soft to the touch, his fingers curled lightly around the sharp jut of a hipbone._

_And finally, he sleeps._

 

_xi._

Simon runs until his legs collapse from underneath him, sending him stumbling somewhere in rural New York. He doesn’t know where he is, because for the last one-hundred miles or so his vision has been blurred by tears streaming down his face.

“ _Fuck!_ ” He screams to the night air as he pulls himself into an upright position, swiping furiously at his face. What - what is he supposed to do now?

“Classy.” A dry voice echoes from near him, and he scrambles up and turns around to find Raphael staring him down, looking as unfairly put together as ever.

“What? How’d you find me?” Simon asks, astonished. Raphael holds his phone up in his hand.

“Fray told me about what happened and asked me to track you.” He says. “Since you did decide to run at a speed that Shadowhunters can’t keep up with.”

“She told you what happened.” Simon says, his heart sinking. Raphael looks at him carefully.

“I’m not going to order a hit on Wayland, if that’s what you’re worried about.” He says, frowning. “Demon summonings are always a fucking pain, leave it to Shadowhunters to constantly try them again and again.”

“Demon.” Simon repeats blankly. “They mentioned that back at the Institute to. What were they doing?”

“You know that group that’s been threatening us in Bronx? They’ve been utilizing Belial, one of the princes of Hell, for protection. He told them about some ancient elixir that made them untraceable, and they were using it to hide from us.” Raphael replies, sliding his phone back in his pocket and sighing. “The elixir also uses a variant of holy water steeped with primrose, which acts like a slow poison for vampires. The fools have been slowly killing themselves.”

“Would Belial have known when he told them?” Simon asks, a small part of him relieved that the rogue problem is finally getting somewhere. They - all of them, werewolves, vampires, and Shadowhunters - have been struggling with this clan for close to three months now, and it’s been gutting to run into a brick wall every time they tried to corner the assailants.

“Obviously.” Raphael scoffs. “Those of us who actually _pay attention_ to what warlocks say know that Belial hates Children of the Night in particular. He tricked them, happily.”

“And the demon that they summoned with Magnus…?” Simon asks, hesitant.

“Belial.” Another voice confirms, and Simon whirls around with his fangs bared, relaxing only when he sees Clary step out of a shimmering purple portal with Magnus. “Raphael texted us where you were so Magnus could create the portal.”

“I’m sorry I ran.” Simons says hoarsely, hating the worry etched in Clary’s face. “I just - “

“I know, Simon.” Clary says, reaching out to tug him into a tight hug. He returns the embrace, burying his face in her hair and taking several deep breaths he doesn’t need, trying to ground himself in this nightmare. He pulls back shakily and wipes his eyes roughly before speaking again

“What - what exactly happened there? With the demon, and J- ”. Before he can get the name out, his throat closes up with another wave of sadness. Clary reaches out and grabs his hand, squeezing it reassuringly, and Simon is grateful for something to ground him.

“Well, um. We summoned Belial, and he looked normal, but then he started talking about payment, and when he did, Jace got really defensive, and then he told the demon to take his payment and leave, which basically let the demon do anything to him, and then -”. Clary keeps talking, words rushing out, trying to find anything that will make this whole thing less of a nightmare, but Simon can see in her eyes that nothing is going to make this better. Before she can finish her sentence, Magnus breaks in, voice low and quiet with regret.

“The demon took all of his memories of you, Simon. He doesn’t know who you are.”

Simon supposes that should make him feel better, knowing that the man you adore didn’t try and kill you for no good reason, but it only shatters his heart that much more. They’d done so much together. All of it, just - gone. Like it never even happened. Simon distantly heard Magnus saying something else about one last bit of magic, but all he can hear is a roaring in his head, a movie reel in his head reliving every painful moment the two of them had shared, and every moment that had made Simon fall that much more in love.

“Simon?” Clary says gently, squeezing his hand and jolting Simon back to whatever this hell is. He swallows thickly before lifting his eyes to Clary again.

“So what happens now? Can we - there must be something we can do -” Simon tries, desperately trying to believe that nothing is ever set in stone and they can fix this, they can fix _Jace_ and then everything will be the way it's supposed to be.

“Simon, I am so sorry -” Magnus cuts him off quietly, and the tone of his voice needs no other explanation.

_There’s nothing we can do._

“No - no, we can fix this. Clary - Clary, we can fix him, please?” Simon tries again, desperation seeping thick into his mouth and voice. He feels tears welling up in his eyes again, and the way Clary’s looking at him, eyes wide with pity and grief, makes everything all too horribly real and he breaks again. Wracking sobs come from deep in his chest, and as he leans forward against Clary’s shoulder, he truly doesn’t know what he needs to do next.

 

_xii._

_Jace stands on the steps of the Institute quietly, arms folded across his chest as he watches Simon on the steps. Ever since that night with Valentine, Simon has made it a habit of his to just lay on the steps in the sun, in full view of the Mundanes passing by._

_Simon couldn’t care less about the people giving him looks. He’s missed this so much - just being able to stretch out in the sun, feel the warmth sink into his bones and try and heat up his dead body. It never lasted for very long, but he was grateful for every moment he could get._

_Simon was so lost in his mind that he didn’t even hear Jace come and sit next to him until he clears his throat._

_“Hey.” Jace keeps his eyes trained on the floor, arms folded over his knees. Simon squeezes his eyes open and shoots him a confused look._

_“Hey.”_

_They sit in a silence for another couple moments, before Simon loses complete control of what little filter he has._

_“Why do you keep hanging out with me?” He isn’t complaining, by any stretch of the mind. Being with Jace is - is like being at home. It almost makes him feel normal again. But he’s still not sure that they’re really friends, per se, and Simon has been thinking about this ever since that night at the boathouse. Of all the people Jace could have gone to...he came to Simon._

_“What?” Jace replies softly, his voice carrying a hint of incredulousness, almost like he was hurt by the idea that Simon didn’t want him around anymore._

_“I mean - it’s just - well, we haven’t known each other for that long, and like. Well, we’re not the greatest friends ever, but I guess since we’ve been hanging out we kinda are - and don’t get me wrong, I really like hanging out with you, but I’m just -” Simon feels his mouth take control of his brain, and he loses track of his sentence before it even stops._

_“Simon.” Jace interrupts him quietly, and Simon stops his train of thought, thankful for the distraction._

_“Why me? Out of everyone here, you chose me. Why?” Simon says helplessly, looking at Jace for the first time in the whole conversation. He watches as Jace’s mouth opens and closes, trying to find the words that accurately describes the way that his chest constricts every time Simon looks at him._

_“I guess - you make me feel normal. You… you make me want to be better?” Jace finishes, making it sound more like a question than he wanted it to. Simon looks at him closer, eyes softening in a way that made Jace’s heart skip a beat. Something flashes across his face, too quick for Jace to see it, before he turns away and mutters a quiet response._

_“Oh.”_

_The silence comes back, but it’s comfortable, sitting next to each other as the clouds pass overhead and the sun slowly sinks towards the horizon. Simon looks over at Jace again, watching the way the light catches his hair and turns it into a halo, golden and soft on his head. He feels a small smile creep out over his face, completely enamored by the boy sitting next to him._

_“Well, if I can be responsible for making you less of a jackass, then by all means. Hell, you can live in my boathouse -”_

_Jace shoves at Simon’s shoulder turning his head away as he tries to hide the grin growing over his face. “Shut up, man.”_

_“Seriously! If hanging out with me make you a better person, I’ll tie you to me. Like one of those balloons children tie on their wrists in Central Park.” Simon says through his laughter, imagining the sight of an angry Jace bobbing at tree level, clinging to a balloon string._

_“I think being stuck with you would make me even more of an ass.” Jace snarks back, the retort lacking its usual bite because of the dazzling smile that lights up his face at the same time. Simon pushes him back as well, laughing all the while, when he sees something out of the corner of his eye._

_“Hey, doesn’t that cloud look like an alien?”_

_Jace smirks and glances up, following Simon’s outstretched arm._

_“I don’t see it.”_

_“Here, come over here, next to me.” Simon says impatiently, never taking his eyes of off the darkening sky. Jace scoots over slowly, pressing into Simon’s shoulder and side._

_“I still don’t see what you’re talking about.”_

_“Look! It’s right there, are you blind?” Simon shakes his arm impatiently, glancing over at Jace with an annoyed look on his face. Jace lets out an exaggerated sigh and looks back up to where Simon is pointing. It’s nothing but blue sky, with a small smattering of clouds covering -_

_“That’s not an alien. That’s definitely a giraffe with two hands.” Jace says slyly, watching as Simon splutters angrily and glares like a ruffled kitten, though his eyes are dancing as he considers Jace._

_“What are you smoking, dude? Obviously, that one is the giraffe with two hands.” Simon shifts his hand slightly, pointing at another cloud. Jace finds himself pressing in closer to his side, head dropping onto Simon’s shoulder. His heart rate speeds up as he holds still, hoping, praying that he isn’t making a huge mistake, and when he feels Simon turn his head to look to him, Jace almost gets up and runs back into the Institute._

_But he doesn’t._

_Instead, his breath stills as he keeps his eyes firmly fixed on the sky, waiting for the shove to push him back into line._

_It never comes, and Simon just turns his head back to the clouds. (He’d never admit it, but if he had a heartbeat, it would be trying to break out of his rib cage). Jace lets out a breath that he didn’t realize he was holding, and quickly tries to keep the conversation going._

_“Yea? Well, if that one is the giraffe with two hands, then that one is definitely a giant holding a baby.” Simon laughs and Jace thinks that if he could have anything in the world, it would be to stay in this moment forever._

  


xiii.

“You’re telling me a demon just...took everything?” Jace asks, sitting rigidly on his couch as Alec paces up and down in front of him. “Are you sure?”

“Sure?” Alec asks incredulously. “You stood there and had your heart ripped out by this monster, and you ask me if I’m sure?”

“Alec.” Izzy warns, standing next to Jace’s bed. “Getting angry isn’t helping things.”

“I just don’t think it’s bad as you’re making it seem.” Jace argues churlishly. “Surely I must have hated Simon a _little_ , before, or he must have done _something_ bad - “

“He didn’t.” Alec interrupts him. “And I can’t believe I have to say this, but Simon’s probably the nicest person out of all of us.”

“I just don’t - “ Jace begins, and Izzy shakes her head.

“Jace.” She cuts across him. “Look inside you. You _know_ something’s wrong.”

Jace flinches back, frowning, because it’s easy for her to say he _knows_ something; she’s not living with a hollow cavity in her chest, chasing ghosts of memories at the edges of his mind. It’s like trying to catch water running through his fingers, all while a furious anger sits in his heart, a burning that _hurts_ to ignore. His head is _aching_ with it, with the dissonant feelings clouding his mind, the way the world around him seems uncertain.

She knows _nothing_ ; they all can’t understand the way it feels to be him right now. It doesn’t matter, he thinks bitterly, that Valentine isn’t his father; he’s still the same weak-willed, angry child the man raised.

“Okay. Fine” Jace says tightly. “Say something is wrong. Then what?”

“That’s what we don’t _know_.” Alec says frustratedly. “Magnus is looking into it but it seems semi-permanent, at the very least.”

“Then if there’s nothing you can do about it anyway, leave me alone.” Jace replies, crossing his arms and glaring at Alec.

“No way.” Izzy says quickly. “You’re a threat to yourself, and to others.” Jace grinds his teeth, his fingers digging into the skin of his palms as his temper rises, unbidden. Whatever is happening, it’s definitely made him more quick to anger.

“Lock me in my room, then.” He says flatly. “I don’t really care. I’m going to sleep.”

“Jace.” Alec starts, unsure. “We’re not trying to _punish_ you. Can you trust me when I say we just want to fix this for _your_ happiness?”

Jace wants to say _no, my happiness should never be at the top of your list of concerns_ , because he’s long since accepted that happiness isn’t his to have. That kind of thing is reserve for people far better than him, people who don’t have hands stained crimson with innocent blood, people like Alec and Izzy and Clary -

\- _people like the man with a smile of sunshine, white teeth gleaming in the darkness, a hint of something sharp, a voice saying ‘you deserve the world too’ -_

He groans aloud, clutching his head as pain lances through his head, sharp and pointed as it takes up residence behind his temples. The flash of a smile he just saw was unfamiliar and yet still seems so close, within reach; but as he tries to remember it again the pain doubles down, and he leans over, breathing hard and trying not to vomit as nausea settles in his stomach.

“Okay.” He groans out weakly. “ _Something_ is definitely happening.”

“Jace - “ Alec says.

“No.” Jace cuts him off, squeezing his eyes shut. “Yeah, I need - I can’t do anything like this.”

“Get some rest.” Izzy commands, and Jace staggers over to his bed and crumples on it, not even bothering to kick his boots off.

“Sure.” He slurs, closing his eyes and curling into his side. His bed feels empty, but his exhausted body shuts down; he falls asleep to the dull ocean of pain and an echo of a warm, kind smile.

 

_xix_

_“Oh, no.” Jace says when he sees where Simon’s taking him. “No, no, absolutely not.” Simon side-eyes him spectacularly._

_“How do you know where we are?” Simon asks him, his voice accusing, but Jace barely notices._

_“I would actually rather jump into a pit of Shax demons.” He tells Simon seriously, and Simon snorts._

_“While I’m sure my sister will love that you compared her to a demon,” he says, shoving Jace up the front steps of the Lewis house, “we’re doing this. You haven’t eaten all day, and Mom made pot roast.”_

_“I can just get burgers” Jace hisses in a low voice, his nerves getting the better of him as he tries to twist out of Simon’s surprisingly strong grip._

_“For someone who’s very concerned with how good they look, you put a lot of junk food in your body.” Simon reprimands him, and then his expression shifts to something a little more melancholy. “Besides, Mom’s pot roast is...one of the best things I used to eat.”_

_Oh. Jace immediately stops struggling to leave and straightens up, pulling his jacket tighter around him as he considers the little frown on Simon’s face._

_“You sure your Mom will let me in? I mean, I don’t look like the best influence.” Jace says doubtfully, gesturing to the rune on his neck and all black outfit. Simon’s eyes track up and down his body, and - did he just lick his lips? This is - Jace is suddenly light-headed, his heart pounding as Simon reaches a hand out, his fingers softly skating across the material of Jace’s sleeve, down, down, to -_

_“Your damn glamour rune.” Simon says cheerfully, tapping his fingers against Jace’s forearm. “Honestly, and you call yourself a Shadowhunter.”_

_“That makes me invisible!” Jace protests. The door swings open at that moment, and Jace’s nose is assaulted with a wonderful array of smells - the slight spice of pot roast, the old scent of leather, a faint undertone of perfume._

_“Well! It’s so nice to meet Simon’s friend.” Elaine says, standing in the doorway and beaming. Jace is momentarily thrown, his throat tightening as he remembers the last time he saw this woman, broken and worn down, dark worry in her eyes for her dead son._

_Her son, who is standing besides Jace, undead; her son, who’s been thrown through a nightmarish mix of demons and crazed megalomaniacs, who’s feared for his life more times than he should have, for the simple reason that he keeps the wrong kind of company. Her son, who Jace hasn’t been able to protect._

_“It’s nice to meet you too.” Jace says quietly, his voice subdued, as he reaches out to shake Elaine’s hand._

_“Nonsense! Any friend of Simon’s is a friend of mine.” Elaine says cheerfully, and strong-arms Jace into a hug. Jace goes, numbly, and even as he’s enveloped by a comfortable scent of perfume and home, he can’t stop thinking about the three monkeys in a row, grinning bright and cheerful from the bookshelf, their counterpart buried six feet under the ground._

_“Mom.” Simon protests as she releases Jace. “You’re embarrassing me.”_

_“Can you blame her?” Another voice asks, and a girl that looks remarkably like Simon rounds the corner, looking curiously at Jace as she sticks her hand out. They’ve got the same shade of brown in their hair, the same impish grin and thick eyebrows. Her eyes are sharp where Simon’s are soft, and her cheeks rounder; she looks like Elaine. Simon must take after his father._

_“Rebecca, I assume. It’s nice to meet you.” Jace says politely, shaking her hand. Rebecca, thankfully, doesn’t try to hug him, just eyes him critically._

_“He’s one of the few friends you bring home that aren’t Clary. I was starting to think you didn’t have any.” Rebecca says to Simon, smirking, and Simon scowls._

_“Yeah, because you’ve got so many more.” He snipes back. “You’ve got a grand total of three, and you’re lecturing me?”_

_“Children.” Elaine scolds in a practiced tone. “You both still live under my roof.” Simon and Rebecca groan in unison, and Jace is briefly amused by the way they both pull identical faces, rolling their eyes and scrunching their noses. “Show Jace to your room, Simon, while I finish up dinner. I’ll call you two down when it’s ready.”_

_Simon leads Jace down a hallway and up the stairs to his room. There’s no broken mirror, no halved desk; just a pile of laundry that Simon shoves to the side and unfinished sheet music scattered on the desk, a guitar lying haphazardly on the bed._

_“I’m only home sometimes, when I’ve fed really well and I think I can stand it.” Simon’s musing aloud as he pushes his desk chair towards Jace. “Rebecca thinks I’m hooking up with someone really hot, and that’s why I’m never - are you alright?”_

_“What?” Jace asks hoarsely, tearing his eyes away from the pristine mirror, all the shards exactly in the place they should be. Simon’s frowning at him._

_“You’ve been strangely silent ever since Mom opened the door, and you didn’t even take the chance to make fun of me when I said Rebecca thinks I’m having sex with someone. That was an easy one, too, I practically set it up for you.” Simon says, stepping forward closer. Jace automatically takes a step back, and Simon’s frown deepens._

_“Nothing’s wrong.” Jace says determinedly, but his voice comes out all wrong, low and anguished. He drags a hand through his hair and shakes his head. “Nothing’s wrong.” He repeats, quieter._

_“Jace - “_

_“You were dead, Simon!” Jace says quickly, the admission dragged from his chest as Simon looks at him with those mesmerizing eyes._

_“I still...am?” Simon says softly, confused. Jace shakes his head, even as Simon steps closer to him._

_“The last time I was here.” He says, his hands clenched into fists at his side. “You were dead. Clary was trying to figure out a way to tell your mom, and she - she couldn’t. I didn’t - I told her that love was a weakness.”_

_“Jace.” Simon says quietly, just his name, like a soft prayer, like a name that means something to Simon. He waits, and what does that say about Simon that he knows Jace so well, already? His clever mind’s figured Jace out, knows how to slip past his walls no matter how hard he tries to hold them up._

_“I would have let you die.” He says desperately. “Don’t you understand, I - I would have staked you and buried you, said your rites and forgotten. If it weren’t for Clary - “_

_“Nineteen years.” Simon says, cutting him off. Jace looks at him, his heart pounding in his chest._

_“What?”_

_“I had nineteen years.” He says, and there’s a soft, sad smile on his face now. “They were a good nineteen years, Jace.”_

_“You should have lived so much longer - “_

_“If there’s anything I’ve learned,” Simon says firmly, “it’s that we don’t get to decide how our cards fall. We live, we die - it’s all fleeting. You never know what’s going to happen.”_

_“But you - “_

_“Who cares what could have happened?” Simon says, grinning crookedly at him. “Clary did resurrect me, I didn’t love it at first, you gave me some weird angel mojo, and I’m here now, standing in my childhood bedroom while you freak the fuck out over a pretty trivial thing, honestly. Never would have imagined it.”_

_“I don’t think that you dying quite qualifies as trivial.” Jace says weakly, but his heart steadies at the easy, genuine smile on Simon’s face, the hurt in his chest easing a little. He needs to pull himself together._

_“Simon!” Elaine’s voice echoes from downstairs. “Come down, monkey, dinner’s ready!”_

_“The nickname.” Simon groans, but he’s smiling widely as he makes his way to his door. “C’mon, Jace, her pot roast is honestly heaven on a plate - “_

_“Simon, wait, I - “ Jace says, unthinkingly reaching a hand out and wrapping his fingers around Simon’s arm. He doesn’t know how to say this, how to express the jumble of emotions tangling around his heart._

_“Jace?” Simon asks, his eyes trained on Jace’s grip on his arm._

_“If it happened now,” Jace say slowly, “I would do the same thing Clary did. I wouldn’t be able to - I would have to. Trust that you’d come back.”_

_“You don’t think love is a weakness?” Simon asks, his voice low and his eyes dark as he looks back at Jace. Jace bites his lip, looks on helplessly, because he can’t - can’t speak past the thick well of want in his chest, the deep, helpless desire he feels._

_“Simon.” Jace says, unsure, and Simon looks at him. He’s not smiling, just searching Jace’s face for something, the moment wildly intimate and serious._

_“I would come back.” Simon says suddenly. “I would. Not just for Clary.”_

_The unspoken ‘for you’ lingers, long after dinner is finished and Jace falls asleep, his dreams a swirl of a hand reaching out of the darkness, out of the dirt, searching only for him._

_._

 

_xx._

Jace wakes up to the blaring of an alarm, and he blindly reaches over and fumbles for his phone, muscle memory taking over as he swipes right and shuts it off. He sits up, blinking and rubbing his eyes, checking his phone screen to see that it’s littered with messages that he’s missed. Most of them are older, from right before the demon summoning, texts from Alec making sure he knows to bring Clary, stuff like that. But -

There’s more recent ones as well. As in, received 2 minutes ago recent, and they’re all from the same number. His eyebrows come together as he tries to figure out who they’re from, because his phone restarted and now the only thing displayed are the numbers, black and taunting where a name should be. The wording - it’s so familiar, it’s right there -

His phone tumbles to the floor as he lets out another agonized groan and reaches up to grab his head, trying to squeeze away the horrendous pounding. Jace’s eyes squeeze shut as the pain from before comes back, sharp and cold right behind his eyes.

It takes a few moments for the pain to subside completely, and when it does, Jace is still breathing heavily, head cradled in his hands between his knees. Shakily, he straightens up and grabs for his phone on the floor. There’s a blurry picture as the wallpaper, flashing cheerfully every time he tries to unlock it and the phone asks him for his passcode. He’s on one end, smiling, his hand wrapped around the shoulder of someone else hidden by the phone. Alec’s on the other end of the picture, so it can’t be him; he recognizes Izzy’s heels along the bottom, another pair of her heels that someone else must be wearing, and a beat up pair of tennis shoes on the person that he’s apparently got his arm around.

 _That_ . That must be - but it _can’t -_ he _hates -_

Jace _screams_ as the searing pain comes back, doubling down, leaving him dizzy as he staggers and clutches the wall. Alec bursts into his room, blade out, frantically sweeping his eyes across Jace and checking for injuries.

“What’s wrong?” Alec demands, striding over and grabbing Jace, who is shaking as he slumps against the wall. “Jace!”

“Every time,” Jace gasps out, “I think I found - who’s missing - this happens - “ Izzy crashes through the open door too, her face lined with worry.

“Are you alright?” She asks.

“I need _answers_.” Jace gets out, bodily lurching to the side and shaking Alec’s hand off of him as he grabs his phone and stumbles to the door. “I gotta - I gotta go - “

“Jace, _no_ , Simon’s here - “ Alec shouts, and Izzy shouts over him “Don’t _tell_ him that!” but it’s too late; the damage is done. Jace leans against the frame, gasping for breath as the familiar hate bubbles up in him. Hate, anger - those things are easy, those things he knows how to channel. Those things he can work with.

He gets his breathing back under control before looking back to Alec and Izzy, who’s eyes are wide with the realization of what they’ve just done. Jace feels the anger building in his stomach, making it hard for him to see straight, even _think_ because the only thing running through his head now is _killhatemonsterSimonhatekillbloodhatehateHATE._ Alec opens his mouth to try and say something, and Izzy steps forward to try and grab him but they’re both too slow.

Jace barrels down the hallways, letting some newfound instinct guide him to wherever Simon is, not even bothering to watch for other people in the way. He can feel his speed rune buzzing under his skin, his breath coming in sharp gasps as he rounds corner after corner, bursting directly into -

His piano room.

It’s not _his_ , per se, but it’s more of a storage room that he’s long since claimed for him and his piano. Simon’s standing in front of the piano, his shoulders shaking in the brief second where Jace is in the room, unnoticed; but he whirls around the next second, putting himself behind the piano and staring at Jace warily.

“What do you want?” Simon asks, and his voice is cautious and tired. Jace knows the feeling, but he’ll never admit it. Instead, he grits his teeth and slowly looks around the room, his eyes flickering from one pile of useless junk to another.

“The real question is, what do _you_ want?” Jace asks mindlessly, mostly trying to keep Simon’s eyes on him while he searches for a weapon. Alec’s confisticated everything from him, even the blades he keeps hidden around his room. “What is a _vampire_ doing in _my_ piano room?”

“Well, you probably don’t - I know you don’t remember, but. Uh, you said I could use it. So, I mean, it became our piano room. But you - yeah. Sorry.” Simon can’t seem to look at him, and Jace is glad, because everything the vampire is saying right now makes him want to rip his fucking throat out. He would never be that friendly to a vampire, _especially_ not Simon. He keeps looking around the room for something to use as a weapon, so he can end this once and for all, and he’s dimly aware of Simon saying something, but he’s beyond the point of caring. The pain and frustration warring within him is tearing him apart, and he’s pretty sure that if he can just - finish Simon off once and for all, this nightmarish feeling in his chest will all be over.

There’s a hilt peeking out from behind a discarded painting, and Jace is there in an instant, expertly grabbing it and twisting it to cut off Simon’s supernatural speed, catching his wrist as he tries to run out of the room and slamming him against the wall.

“ _Finally_ .” Jace bites out, breathing hard as Simon _screams_ , eyes wide and afraid. “I can’t wait to watch you bleed out.” Simon is struggling under him, his arms flexing as he pushes back against Jace, his torso heaving as he tries to throw Jace off. In theory, Simon’s strength alone should be enough to defeat Jace; but in reality, Jace seems to instinctively know how to shift his weight, how to read Simon’s movements a microsecond before the vampire moves, matching him instantly.

“ _Jace_ ,” Simon says, his voice terrified and broken, hands scrabbling desperately at the doorframe as he tries to get out, “please, don’t do this, this isn’t you. Jace, please try and remember, we’re friends, really, Jace. _Please._ ”

“Are we _really_ ?” Jace sneers, pressing the blade against the line of Simon’s throat and watching as a trickle of blood wells up. “There’s a hesitation in your voice every time you say that. So you know what _I_ think? I think you’ve lied so well to everyone they believe that we’re friends, but we’re really not, and - ”

“You’re right,” Simon sobs, the wall behind them cracking as he slams his head back, trying to get away from the knife, “we weren’t _friends_ , we were something _more_ , you were - you - _please_ Jace, you were my _everything_ , you _have_ to remember - ”

“I don’t _want_ to remember.” Jace says coldly, eyes glinting with a fury that Simon never wants to see again. Without any hesitation, Jace presses the blade forward and slices Simon’s neck wide open.

 

_xxi._

_“Simon, wait up.” Jace says as he jogs up to catch his shoulder. Simon turns around, smile growing on his face, and Jace can’t help the squeezing in his chest when he sees it._

_“Hey, what’s up?”_

_“There’s something I wanna show you.”  Jace says quietly, looking straight into Simon’s (gorgeous, gorgeous) brown eyes before grabbing his wrist and pulling him down a hallway to their right. Simon stumbles after him, laughter bubbling out of his chest as he follows Jace down the hall._

_“What are you doing, Jace?” Simon says, almost tripping over his own feet as he tries to keep pace with the Shadowhunter dragging him around corners left and right. “If you’re going to murder me, can it please not be in a closet?”_

_Jace laughs at that, because he would sooner break his own neck a million times over than do anything to hurt Simon, and keeps going. “No, I think you’ll like it. I promise.”_

_Simon can’t seem to get the giant grin on his face to go away, and he knows he must look like an idiot, running behind a Shadowhunter with a blinding smile on his face, but he realizes he really doesn’t care all that much. Not when Jace is buzzing with impatiently contained excitement, looking light and carefree in a way Simon hasn’t seen since the first day he walked through the doors of the Institute._

_He’s pulled out of his thoughts when he abruptly runs straight into Jace, who’s stopped suddenly in front of a door in a dead end hallway. “Okay. We’re here.” He turns around, the brightest smile on his face, and Simon swears that he would do anything for Jace to look like this more often._

_“So, I found this place like, six months ago, and no one else knows about it, so don’t tell anyone, okay?” His voice drops to a quiet whisper and his eyes go from gleeful to half-serious, half-excited. Simon nods quickly, the anticipation almost killing him. He has a bizarre thought that maybe Jace is going to suddenly go Christian Grey on him and open the door to some weird shit, but he chokes down his laugh at the thought as he takes in Jace’s trusting eyes and simply squeezes Jace’s shoulder reassuringly._

_Jace looks at him for another moment more before turning around to the door and turning the knob slowly. The door swings open, and he disappears inside for a moment before he pops his head out. “Well, come on; can vampires see through doors now? You’re going to just stand there?”_

_Simon rolls his eyes at that and steps into the room slowly, eyes wide. It’s just a regular storage cabinet, various Shadowhunting gear littered about, old books and such gathering dust by the minute. There’s nothing really spectacular about the room, except for the baby grand piano sitting right smack in the middle of it. Unlike its surroundings, the piano is immaculately clean, keys shining bright white and black in the dim grey of the closet. Jace is already sliding onto the bench, cracking his knuckles obnoxiously and looking at Simon in anticipation._

_“You can play the piano, right?” He asks, flicking his eyes between Simon and the bench and jerking his head. “Come here, stop standing in the doorway like a creep.”_

_“You’re so charming.” Simon says, giving Jace a look as he slides onto the bench next to him, close enough in the tiny space that their thighs are pressed together. He shivers, suddenly cold under the onslaught of warmth from Jace’s body. “How’d you know I play the piano?”_

_“You were in a band.” Jace snorts, hitting C and listening carefully to the note. “Good, it’s still in tune. I figure anyone lame enough to be in a band - “_

_“No respect these days.” Simon bemoans, and Jace nudges him gently, laughing._

_“Anyone lame enough to be in a band probably picked up some piano, at least.” He finishes, and Simon shrugs, grinning at Jace._

_“Yeah.” He says, trailing his fingers across the keys and tapping out the beginning to Hedwig’s theme. “So you just come in here to play?”_

_“I used to - piano’s the one thing I can do that isn’t, you know, dangerous.” Jace says, humming absentmindedly as he picks up a folder off the floor and starts skimming through sheet music. “Killing’s nice and all but playing the piano is just...nicer.”_

_“Eloquent.” Simon snorts, but he looks at Jace and the tightness around his eyes. “You know - just because you’re a Shadowhunter doesn’t mean the things you do are destructive, or bad.”_

_“Mm.” Jace sounds unconvinced as he pulls out a sheaf of papers. “Let’s see if I can still play this.” Simon drops the subject, knowing Jace will talk about it when he feels like it,_

_“Dazzle me.” Simon says, echoing one of their earliest conversations, and Jace grins even as he shakes his head fondly. His fingers dance through scales at first, warming up, and Simon is almost surprised at the level of dedication Jace has to this, though he shouldn’t be; Jace tries his best to perfect anything he does, and pays attention to the details._

_As he drops off of the scales and launches into the piece, Simon is surprised at how good he sounds. His fingers move deftly, dancing across the keys and coaxing out a simple, sweet tune. Simon’s about to open his mouth and ask what it is, when Jace starts singing._

_“I breathe in slow to compose myself, but the bleeding heart I left on the shelf started speeding round,” he sings, his voice soft and warm as he glances at Simon. Simon’s heart feels too big for his chest as Jace continues, “Beating half to death, ‘cause you’re here and you’re - all mine.”_

_Jace’s eyes meet his, sharp and beautiful in the dim lighting of the tiny room, and Simon can’t breathe - he doesn’t need to - but it still feels like the air is being sucked out of his lungs._

_Jace continues to sing, his gaze flicking between his fingers, the sheet music, and Simon, but Simon can’t do anything but stare dumbly at Jace, entranced by the way he looks - soft, and relaxed, and happy. Content._

_I love you so much, Simon thinks to himself, like nothing else in this world._

  


xxii.

 

No matter how much Jace hates Simon, he’ll never be able to wipe the look of absolute horror and sadness that flashes across Simon's face from his mind. His eyes widen as the blade moves across his neck, and his hands scrabble against the wooden frame helplessly before falling limp at his side. Jace finishes the cut, and Simon drops like a ragdoll, landing at Jace’s feet with a heavy thud. He can see that Simon’s chest is heaving, and with every intake more blood bubbles out of the wound, but the only thing Jace can feel right now is _euphoric_.

It lasts long enough for Jace to crouch down to meet Simon’s gaze, crimson staining his blue shirt, and smile with a cruel twist of his lips as Simon looks at him, the shattered look in his eyes slowly being sapped away as the life drains out of him -

\- before a sudden, terrifying wave of grief and terror hits Jace in the chest like a train. The knife drops from his hand with a clatter and he takes several deep gulps of air as he scrambles backwards, his eyes widening at the scene in front of him. It’s wrong in every way possible, and every nerve in his body is _screaming_ at him to save the man in front of him, to pitch forward and drain his own body if only to replenish the light in Simon’s eyes. Painful emotions flicker across his mind of another time, not too long ago, and suddenly Simon sprawled on the floor, taking gurgling, blood-choked breaths, seems familiar; a spectre of a life that feels simultaneously miles away and horrifyingly close.

Someone is whispering a steady litany of _no no no_ and it takes Jace a second to realize that it’s him, that the wetness on his face is the inexplicable stream of tears, that the harsh gasping in the room is his own, struggling to breathe as he crawls forward in a blind haze of misery, his vision narrowing to the warm brown of Simon’s eyes. Simon’s almost gone, his fingers twitching weakly, his gaze fixed firmly on Jace as the vein in his neck bleeds out.

“ _Please_ ,” Jace says hoarsely, his own fingers trembling as he reaches a hand out and traces it down Simon’s face, “please?”

He doesn’t know what he’s begging for, doesn’t know how he knows to angle the inside of his wrist towards Simon’s mouth and wait, for something. The words come out of him unbidden, a flow that doesn’t stop once it starts, a steady stream of _please, Simon, c’mon, c’mon_ -

And underneath it all, in his own head, a dull, muted grief is settling, the familiar feeling of seeing his falcon with its neck broken, the desolate, hopeless knowledge that to love is to hurt, a hurt that’s like nothing else in the world.

“ _Simon!”_ another voice yells, and he’s thrown aside with an unfamiliar strength, hitting the ground a few feet away from Simon. He gets up with his head aching, his vision getting cloudier, and through a haze of pain and tears he sees Clary shove her wrist against Simon’s fangs, her screaming voice louder than the shuddering sobs that are still wracking Jace’s body. He holds his breath, his gaze never faltering from Simon’s, even as Izzy and Alec fly to his sides and restrain him. He lets them, watching intently, his lips forming Simon’s name over and over again like a prayer. Simon’s eyes continue to watch him, weak and nearly empty.

 _Please_ , Jace begs in his mind, his entire world narrowing down to Simon.

Simon’s eyes slide shut as his fangs snag on Clary’s wrist and he begins drinking, and Jace slumps back, the overwhelming relief slamming into him the last thing he remembers before he passes out.

  


_xxiii._

 

_4:02 - hey_

 

_4:02 - i never got to say thank u for last night_

 

_4:03 - ur right ur mom’s pot roast is the shit_

 

_4:04 - I know right??? God, I miss her so much sometimes._

 

_4:05 - thougt u cldn’t say God_

 

_4:05 - Yea, I can’t, but I can still type it :p_

 

_4:06 - Why do you insist on spelling everything wrong?_

 

_4:07 - corect spellin is for nreds_

 

_4:08 - also its faster_

 

_4:08 - What does that make me then?_

 

_4:12 - teh best kind of nerd_

 

_4:12 - cool nred_

 

_4:13 - no no cold nerd bc ur a vamp gte it_

 

_4:14 - Wow that’s actually a physically painful joke to hear_

 

_4:15 - Leave the humor to the masters, and just do your slashy demon thing :)))_

 

_4:16 - my salshy dmon thin is keepin u safe u want to die b my guest_

 

_4:17 - if u want to redie_

 

_4:17 - If I redie how will you ever get any of my mom’s heavenly pot roast again_

 

_4:19 - sacrifices must b made if u lov somethin let it go right_

 

_4:20 - bye bye beutiful pot rst_

 

_4:21 - Yeah but then the second part of the saying kicks in, so...._

 

_4:21 - what 2 part_

 

_4:22 - If you love something, set it free._

 

_4:22 - If it comes back, it’s yours._

 

_4:23 - If it doesn’t, it never was._

 

_4:23 - things usually aren’t in the habit of coming back to me lmao_

 

_4:24 - What are you talking about? Of course things will come back to you._

 

_4:25 - would you?_

 

_4:27 - Always._

 

_4:34 - Jace?_

 

_4:41 - fuck_

 

_4:42 - u didn capitalize Fuck_

 

_4:43 - Are you actually shitting me right now._

 

_4:44 - wht_

 

_4:45 - You don’t respond...for 15 minutes...and when you do...it’s to correct my grammar_

 

_4:46 - gotta keep u on ur toes_

 

_4:47 - Whatever, I guess you were joking before and I just responded way too seriously._

 

_4:46 - Ignore what I said before then, yeah?_

 

_4:50 - simon no its not like that_

 

_4:51 - fuck_

 

_4:51 - did u mean it?_

 

_4:52 - How is it fair that you keep asking me things like this_

 

_4:52 - i want you to mean it_

 

_4:53 - i would come back too. always._

 

_4:54 - Jace_

 

_4:54 - Would you even need to let me go in the first place?_

 

_4_ _:55 - if you love something let it go_

 

_4:56 - yeah. i would._

 

_4:57 - So would I._

 

_5:00 - simon? lets talk after the dmon summoning?_

 

_5:02 - Sounds like a plan!_

 

 

xxiv _._

Simon lurches awake with a gasp, a hand coming up instinctively to his throat.

“Easy, easy.” A voice murmurs from beside him, and he turns to see Magnus by his side, fingers sparking and shimmering as his magic moves over Simon’s body. “You lost nearly all of your blood.”

“Jace.” Simon says weakly, confused. “I need to - I need to see him.” Magnus gives him a severe look but doesn’t say anything, focusing on his healing magic, until he makes a satisfied sound and snaps his fingers, ending the stream and helping Simon into an upright position.

“Clary gave you blood.” Magnus says, watching Simon carefully as he stands on shaky feet. “She’s fine too, don’t worry about it. As for you and Jace - “

“He didn’t mean it.” Simon blurts out, the image of Jace’s horror-stricken face and trembling voice burned across his memory. “You should have seen him, Magnus, he was terrified - “

“I’m sure he was.” Magnus says with a note of finality, and Simon takes it as his cue to listen. He looks at Magnus, who looks back at him with warm, worried eyes. “Jace was manipulated by the demon, and I presume the visceral memory of you bleeding out was strong enough to counteract the demon’s magic. But Simon - you can’t be so nonchalant about your own life.”

“I’m not.” Simon protests weakly.

“Aren’t you?” Magnus asks gently. “Jace wouldn’t want you to be so careless or reckless with this version of himself that is, essentially, your enemy.”

“Jace - “ Simon starts, and then stops, biting his lips because he doesn’t have an answer to this. He just knows that if he stops to think about it for too long he might come apart at the seams and crumble, because right now he doesn’t want to focus on the bite of cold steel against his neck, only the soft drag of shaking fingertips across his cheek.

“I don’t know if anything I say can stop you.” Magnus continues, turning away and putting something back on a shelf, his necklaces clicking restlessly in the silence. “But know that I’m here for you, and I will do anything I can to prevent you from killing yourself. Deal?”

“Deal.” Simons says, relieved, and he feels like he could cry from the fond look Magnus is giving him. “Magnus, _thank you_.”

“You’ve grown on me, Simon.” Magnus says, clapping his shoulder. “And while I can’t say I love that my life has gotten much more extreme with you in it - you deserve to be happy. So does Jace.”

“Where is he? I need - I’d like to see him.” Simon says quietly, finding sudden interest in the floor and twisting his hands together. He can hear Magnus turn around and walk to him, stopping right in front of his knees. Simon looks up, a slightly mournful look on his face.

“Are you sure, Simon? We haven’t figured out the demon situation yet at all, I don’t really think that’s a good idea -” Magnus starts, before abruptly being cut off.

“No. I know he still probably hates me, but I - I need him to know that I’m okay. That’s all. Really.” Simon says pleadingly, and he can see the shift from wary to understanding in Magnus’ eyes. While neither of them totally understand anything that’s going on, they both understand caring more about someone else than you do about yourself. Magnus turns away, busying himself with the jars on the shelves.

“He’s in his room. Alec’s in there as well, making sure he doesn’t...try anything.” he replies quietly, and Simon barely gets out a hurried “Thanks” before he’s running out the door, Magnus calling out after him, “Be careful, Simon! Please!”

Simon sprints down the hall, not using his vampire speed because he’s still weak from blood loss but going as fast as he damn well can, brushing past Shadowhunter after Shadowhunter, hallway after hallway after door after door, not even looking at where he is anymore. His body’s taken over, because he’s only been up to Jace’s room once, but his mind knows the way like it's a part of him.

The Institute passes in a blur, until he’s standing outside of the door into Jace’s room. He’s breathing heavily, even if he doesn’t need to, and he’s pretty confident that if he had a pulse anymore, it’d be going a mile a minute. The only thing in his mind is the look on Jace’s face after he’d realized what he’d done; horrified and disgusted, tears streaming down his face. It’s meshing together with all of the other times they’d been together since Jace had gotten back from the summoning, and Simon doesn’t know where his Jace ends and the demonized version begins. He sees his hand raise to the door and knocks, the sound loud and jarring in the otherwise quiet hallway.

It stays shut for a moment, and Simon can hear muffled voices and shuffling feet behind the door before it opens to Alec’s tired face. When he sees that it’s Simon, his eyes widen in shock and he quickly shuts the door behind him.

“Simon, what are you _doing_ here?” He whispers urgently, looking over his shoulder to make sure that Jace hadn’t seen who it was. “You need to leave, _now._ ”

“I know, I know, I just - I need to see him, Alec. I need him to know that I’m okay. Just - please. Let me see him.” Simon pleads with Alec, voice cracking slightly at the pained expression on Alec’s face. He knows he shouldn’t let Simon in, he should tell him to fuck off and leave Jace alone. But...Jace hadn’t said anything to anyone since they pulled him out of the closet, and when they’d gotten back to his room, he’d just collapsed on the bed and started to cry into his pillow when he didn’t think Alec would hear him. He studied Simon’s face for a moment, before finally letting out a long sigh.

“Fine. But - we’re doing it my way. You’re not going in, you’re not getting close to him, and you are absolutely _not_ going to talk to him. Got it?” Simon goes to interrupt, indignant at the idea that he can’t even _talk_ to Jace, but Alec shuts him down with a steely-eyed glare and he falls silent. Simon swallows thickly before nodding to Alec who then goes back inside the room and shuts the door. He thinks, distantly, that this is another part of why Alec and Magnus work so well together; they’re always ready to drop everything and protect others. Simon’s made to wait outside, the anxiety building in his chest with every passing second. He doesn’t hear anything from the other side of the door, and he’s still debating whether that’s good or bad when it swings open.

Alec is standing in the threshold, arm extended to block Simon from entering the room and hand hovering slightly over his dagger, just in case Jace should try anything.

And there he is, standing next to the bed, eyes bloodshot and rimmed with red, hair a complete and utter mess, clothes wrinkled and face twisted into some combination of sadness and regret.

Simon doesn’t think he’s ever wanted anyone more.

They stand like that for what seems like an eternity, staring silently at each other, neither saying a word before Jace breaks the silence.

“Simon -” he chokes out before shutting down again, squeezing his eyes shut briefly as he feels tears well up again, half out of regret and half out of hate. It feels like he’s being ripped apart at the seams; one side of him wants nothing more than to go back to the storage room and relive the feeling of cutting through his neck a thousand times over, while the other wants desperately to hold him tight and whisper broken apologies into Simon’s hair, hold him close and never let him go. He wants so badly but he can’t do either so he just stays silent, staring intently at the floor of his room. Alec told him that Simon isn’t allowed to talk to him, but Jace can’t bring himself to say anything either, because nothing can accurately describe just how hard it is for him to be here. The silence soldiers on, uncomfortable and crushing, and Alec finally snaps.

“That’s enough. Jace, anything?” He says bluntly, voice hard and unforgiving.

“Yeah. Um. Simon, I’m - I’m really - I’m glad you’re okay.” The words come out of his mouth like gravel, spilling into the room with a brittle sense of disappointment. The new instinct in Jace’s head is _screaming_ at him, telling him he’s lying, that he’s a traitor for even _speaking_ to this scum, but he pushes on, because the image of Simon surrounded by his own blood is more than enough to quiet it for a second. “I’m - God, I’m so sorry. I - I don’t -”

Simon raises a hand to him then, fingers outstretched, and it looks like he does it almost instinctively, his first thought to comfort Jace, before he freezes, looking like a deer caught in the headlights as his eyes widen, and then he looks _devastated_ , bringing his hand back and clenching his hands into fists. He looks at Jace and holds his gaze, his eyes unbelievably exhausted.

“Alec.” Simon says quietly, and Alec looks at him, confused, but Simon doesn’t look at Alec, just continues to drink in the sight of Jace like a starved man. “If I was talking to Jace, I would tell him that I don’t blame him. For anything. And I know that he’d probably say that I should but I still don’t, I - I can’t. I never will.”

Jace swallows thickly, hands curling into fists at the pure intensity of Simon’s gaze. He feels like he’s drowning, his lungs crushed under the weight of everything swirling through his head and Simon is - Jace tried to _kill_ him and he’s standing there and making Jace feel more clear-headed than he has this entire time. He’s the one person Jace _loathes_ but he feels so instinctively safe with him, like nothing else in the world.

“We’re done here.” Alec says, not unkindly, and he gently pushes Jace back into the room, shutting the door behind Jace and staying outside in the hallway, presumably to talk to Simon. Jace stumbles forward and slumps against his mirror, bringing a hand up to skim his fingers over his heart, beating erratically fast in his chest.

 _I don’t blame him_.

 _I never will_.

He needs to fix this. He straightens up, a new fire blazing in him alongside the dull need to go after Simon. The price doesn’t matter, he just needs - he needs to stop feeling like he’s being ripped in half every time he sees Simon. He deserves better than half-formed memories.

 _Simon deserves better_ a small voice echoes in the back of his mind, and Jace pushes it down as he gets dressed. His hands are shaking as he drags them through his hair, but he doesn’t notice, his mind racing with the ways out of the room without being seen. He’s pretty sure that Magnus is back at his apartment by now, but he’d still need three other people to help with the summoning -

His thoughts are cut off as Alec steps back into the room with a small click of the lock. His eyes drag up over Jace, taking in the fact that he’s dressed, brows furrowing as he tries to process it.

“Jace, where - what are you doing?” he asks.

“I can’t keep doing this.” He says firmly, and his voice is rough from all the crying. He impatiently coughs, clearing it, before he continues. “I need to talk to that demon again.”

“Are you _insane_?” Alec exclaims angrily. “That’s what caused this problem in the first place!”

“Yeah, so it’s the only thing that can _solve_ it.” Jace fixes Alec with a look. “You know better than I do, don’t you - Magnus can’t find a solution. If he had he’d be here by now.”

“He hasn’t exhausted all the options yet,” Alec argues mulishly, “give him time - “

“I don’t _have_ time.” Jace cuts in. “And that’s bullshit, and you know it -

“Watch it.” Alec snaps, eyes hardening. “Magnus is doing everything he can to fix this, okay?”

“Well, maybe everything he can isn’t enough.” Jace bites back, and from the way Alec’s jaw twitches, he knows he hit a nerve, and not a good one. “Listen, I know he’s trying, but I - I need to fix this. Now. It’s already gone on too long, and next time there might not be anyone around.” Jace says, defeated, because he knows that if he doesn’t do something about this soon, there’ll _be_ a next time, and he’ll - he’ll probably make sure it’s the _last_ time. And the thought of that is - no. He furiously shoves it to the back of his mind and stares at Alec, begging him silently to understand, and Alec relaxes slightly, hands still balled into fists at his side, fixing Jace with a glare.

“Okay. We need to talk to Magnus first. Got it?”

“Yeah, alright.” Jace says, and then he hesitates. “Look, you’ll be with me the whole time, right?”

“Of course.” Alec says, giving him a strange look. “When has that ever been in question?”

“No, just - give me my blade back. Stay with me and make sure I don’t kill Si - the vampire - _fuck_ .” He spits out as a sudden surge of hatred wells up in him. He pushes it down, and manages to get out a choked “ _Simon_ ” past the sandpaper in his throat.

“What if I can’t stop you?” Alec asks, shaking his head. “I can’t risk Simon’s life - “

“You can stop me.” Jace says confidently. “Are you kidding, Alec? The demon took _something_ from me, but you’re still my parabatai.” Alec is silent for a long while, looking at the ground, and then he clears his throat and looks up.

“For what it’s worth,” he mutters, “I really hope this plan of yours works.”

.

“This plan isn’t going to work.” Magnus says, glaring at them as he shuts his spell book and summons himself a martini. “I told you, things like this aren’t that easily reversible.”

“Not to mention, it’s Simon’s _life_ on the line.” Clary points out, her face drawn tight with worry. She’s a little pale, after losing blood to Simon, but the anger in her eyes seems to be fueling her. That, and Izzy standing a step behind her, casually ready to catch her if she falls.

“And if we don’t do this? Then what?” Jace grits out, barely holding it together. “It’s been too long already. It’s only been, what, 2 days? And I’ve already tried to kill Sim - _goddamnit_ \- the vampire once? If I don’t do something now, there _will_ be a next time.”

“Jace, we still haven’t finished looking for another solution -” Izzy tries quietly, stepping up to put a hand on the small of Clary’s back.

“ _There isn’t time for that!_ ” Jace nearly roars, sending everyone in the room a step back and a fearful look across their faces. Alec’s hand immediately drops to the hilt of his blade. “Magnus, in all of your time, is there another way to retrieve someone's memories? At all?”

“No.” Magnus says quietly, dipping a finger into his martini and stirring mournfully, a deep frown set into his face. “The only way to retrieve stolen memories is to steal them back. Assuming Belial hasn’t already...consumed them.”

“It’s settled then.”Jace says firmly, feeling the fire in his chest die down a little bit, the roaring in his head quiet just enough. “If you don’t do this with me, I’ll find another warlock who will.”

He’s met with a stunned silence, eyes wide with shock at just how serious he is about this. They all know how well the last encounter with a different warlock went, and to even suggest that he might try it again...it’s more than enough to have Magnus’ eyes harden as he stands up, waving away his martini.

“I know you’re in a compromised situation,” He says, his voice hard, “but you will _not_ talk to me like that in my own home - “

“I _don’t care_ ,” Jace snarls out, his hands shaking where he’s clutching his blade, “you don’t _know_ how it felt to - to - the blood - and I’ve - _been_ there before - I’m spiralling out of control and I. Don’t. _Care_. “ Magnus’ eyes flicker down to Jace’s shaking hands before he looks back up, and he reaches a hand out -

Jace flinches at the sudden movement and he drops his blade, the clattering sound it makes echoing through the sudden stillness in the room. He drops to his knees, tries to pick it up, and fumbles it again.

“Fuck!” he hisses, his voice breaking in the middle as he stares at his trembling finger, “ _Fuck_.” His voice is lower now, more anguished, and he hates himself for laying all his cards out on the table like this, all for that - the damn Downworlder -

“Get your nerves under control.” Magnus says gently, crouching down and taking Jace’s hands in his own. A blue shimmer passes over them, sinking into Jace’s fingertips and relieving an aching tension he hadn’t noticed in them before; he sighs in relief and looks at Magnus, who’s staring at Jace’s hands, looking suddenly ancient and exhausted.

“I have to make a phone call before we start.” He says, and he lets go of Jace’s hands and stands up, brushing his hand over Alec’s shoulder before he leaves the room.

Even with the added relaxant of the magic, Jace still feels like he’s being strung out, everything too loud and too quiet at the same time, and he can’t seem to stop moving his hands, trying to grab onto anything nearby -

“Jace. Sit down.” A voice breaks through the haze that’s built up in his mind, and he does so gladly, just to have something else to focus on. Immediately, his hands come up to his hair and drag through it, pulling way too tightly but he can’t bring himself to care. He faintly sees someone in his peripheral vision, before Clary is taking up everything else he can see.

“Hey, it’s okay. I know, I know.” She says quietly, small hand reaching out to grasp his wrist tightly, like an anchor. “Focus on me. I’m right here, focus on me, Jace.”

Gradually, his breathing evens out to normal and he picks his head up from his hands, heavy and thick like it’s full of solid metal. His eyes meet Clary’s, and while he knows his are definitely bloodshot and tired, hers are just caring and empathetic, and he feels himself relax even more.

“We’ll get him back. I promise.” She says quietly, hand still held tight around Jace’s wrist, and he’s never been more thankful that he bumped into her shoulder at Pandemonium all those nights ago. “I promise.”

 .

“Raphael.” Magnus says as soon as the call picks up on the other end. “I need a favor.”

“Hm.” Raphael’s uninterested voice sounds over the other end. “Could it possibly have anything to do with why the fledgling is over here, asking me how to kill a thrice-damned _demon_?”

“Sharp as always.” Magnus coos, and Raphael sighs over the line. “Besides, it’s the one that was interfering with the vampires - “

“I’m well aware.” Raphael says, and there’s a murmur in the background that sounds like Simon. “Don’t be an idiot, Simon, I didn’t contact that werewolf to let you see this through alone. No, you can’t wear my goddamn jacket. Dry cleaning costs a fortune with you around.”

“Simon’s making jokes.” Magnus says, pleasantly surprised. He feels a sudden burst of relief. “That’s good, he’s feeling a little better.”

“Simon has, and always will be, stupendously uncaring with his own life.” Raphael says loudly, and from the angry noise in the background Magnus can only assume Simon’s heard and said something in response. “After all this is over the two of us are going to have a _very_ long talk about what constitutes as self-destructive behavior, and how we shouldn’t treat near-death experiences like the next chapter in a harlequin romance novel.”

“You read harlequin romance novels?” Magnus asks, temporarily distracted.

“No, I’m - I’ve been in the inside of a _bookstore_ , Magnus, I know what books are.” Raphael sighs. “Not the point. Anyway. I assume you have something for me on Belial.” Magnus glances at the closed door where he can hear the low voices of the Lightwood siblings, and he massages the bridge of his nose.

“Belial is one of the Princes of Hell.” Magnus says wearily. “He’s never idiotic enough to send his permanent physical form to a summoning. It’s a shadow, if you will; but you kill the shadow, you lessen his power for the next few decades.”

“Can we kill Belial himself?”

“No. That’s far beyond the scope of even my power.” Magnus says. “It would require artifacts, and amplification, all of which we don’t have right now. The best bet is to take our chances with the shadow-form.”

“I don’t like the way you say ‘take our chances’.” Raphael admits. “What’s the catch?”

“There’s a large chance that he’ll be able to yank out the part of himself he invests in the shadow before you kill it, rendering the whole process moot.” Magnus ticks off. “You’ll need some sort of containment device to get into the circle without burning up, and you’ll need one for each of the members going into the circle. Simon’s Daylighter blood might act up in the circle - it could boil him alive, for all I know. The texts aren’t very clear on the effects it has - though I suppose since Jace and Clary are fine in the circle Simon would be too - though theoretically there is demon essence in vampire venom, so the counterbalance - “

“Focus.” Raphael’s voice breaks through Magnus’ sudden train of thought. “Magical theory experiments later.”

“Right.” Magnus blinks. “Then, of course, there’s the chance that Belial’s thrown away the proverbial lock and key to the spells he cast on Jace. In which case - I don’t know where to turn to but the Seelies after that, even for simply extracting whatever demon magic he sent into Jace, let alone retrieving memories.”

“Belial will have kept them.” Raphael says thoughtfully over the phone. “He’s narcissistic, and he thinks his plans never fail; he’ll have kept them as a sort of trophy. We can probably pull this off.”

“Containment devices?” Magnus questions. “I think I might have _one_ lying around here somewhere - “ He casts his eyes around the room, sending a quick finding spell through his objects and frowning as he parses through the results.

“No need.” Raphael says. “Camille left two behind, and I believe Kiri has one from her days when she was dating a warlock or two. I was never quite clear on what she was doing, exactly.”

“You have three containment devices just lying around?” Magnus asks, astonished. Raphael groans.

“Camille hid a lot from you.” He says gently. “Including the wealth she accumulated here at the DuMort.”

There’s a string of explosive cursing in the background that’s probably Simon, his eyebrows drawn together angrily as he glares at nothing in particular. Magnus smiles sadly, the little familiar pang at the thought of Camille and the hurt she caused everyone passing rapidly through his chest.

“Well, then.” He says, a strange feeling of finality settling over him. “You’re going to try it?”

“Simon looks ready to take down Lucifer himself, if I’m being honest. And I imagine Luke looks the same way after hearing what happened. He’s on his way here now. When do you need us there?” Raphael asks quietly, the muttering in the background still going at a steady stream.

“Be here in half an hour. I’ll be in the summoning room, you’ll need to listen at the door for the right moment.” Magnus says distractedly as he gathers up the chalk and other assorted materials they’ll need for the demon.

“How will we know when it’s the right time?”

“Believe me. If Belial does something along the lines of what I expect him to, you’ll know.”

 .

The way they’re all standing in the stone grey room is horribly familiar, but this time there’s no light banter to fill the suffocating silence. Jace stands with his back to the door, arms crossed over his chest as he watches Clary draw the pentagram again. Izzy is hovering over her, and Magnus and Alec are murmuring quietly to each other in the corner, Alec’s hand hovering uncertainly over Magnus’ arm until Magnus turns his palm up and they intertwine their fingers together. Magnus brings his other hand to Alec’s cheek, fingertips tracing the curve of his jaw -

Jace looks away, the aching hole in his chest growing larger as he grits his teeth and tries to ignore the now familiar surge of anger that grows at the sight. It reminds him too vividly of kneeling before Simon’s bloodied body, his hands hovering over pale cheeks and steadily weakening brown eyes -

“Jace.” Izzy calls softly. “Come here and help spot Clary’s drawing.”

“Clary doesn’t need help _drawing_.” Jace mutters, but he goes, thankful to Izzy for the distraction, Her sharp eyes track his movements, her lips turning downwards in a frown as she takes him in.

“Hold the other end of the scroll.” She tells him, getting up from the floor and brushing her knees off, and Jace obediently kneels down and unfurls the drawing of the pentagram, angling it towards Clary.

He feels hands suddenly sink into his shoulders, slender and strong, and he cranes his head upwards to see Izzy crouched behind him, massaging his shoulders. He can suddenly feel every knotted muscle in his back, an agonizing pain that’s settled over his shoulders.

“You need a vacation or something.” Izzy murmurs from behind him. “Your back is like solid stone, you’re so tense.”

“Pot, kettle.” He says hoarsely. “Thank you, Iz.” He’s thanking her for more than just the massage, he’s thanking her for being there with exactly the right thing at the right time, and he hope she knows that.

“Of course.” She says gently, and he thinks she does know.

“Done.” Clary says grimly, brushing her hands off as she stands, and Jace follows suit, rolling up the scroll and setting it against the wall. “Magnus, are we ready?”

“As we’ll ever be.” He replies tiredly, drawing his hands away from Alec’s face and turning towards the rest of them. “Alright, before we start, I need to make sure we all know what’s going to happen -”

“The demon will show up, I’ll do the talking and we’ll try to get my memories back.” Jace cuts in roughly, eyes trained on the floor beneath him, but he can still feel Magnus glaring daggers into his skull.

“As I was saying...Belial will most likely not be too happy that we’ve summoned him again in such a short time period, so _I_ will be doing the talking.” He shoots at Jace, but Jace doesn’t even flinch as Magnus continues on. “Jace, you need to be very careful about what you say to him. We don’t want this ending up like last time. If you tell him to ‘take anything’, he will. Know what you’re prepared to offer. Alright?”

“You have to know I’d pay any price.” Jace says roughly, willing Magnus to understand as he locks eyes with him.

“Ah, yes, because you _dead_ will really make those memories you want to get back that much more special.” Magnus snaps. “Be practical.”  
“Okay, I get it, can we just get started?” Jace says impatiently, looking over his shoulder to the circle. Magnus takes a deep breath in and looks over at Alec, before looking back at all of them once again.

“You know what to do.” He says quietly. “And really, the fact that you all know _exactly_ how this works - I sincerely hope we see no demons for at least a decade or two after this.”

“Magnus.” Alec says sharply, his face drawn tight with worry. Through their bond Jace can detect the fear that’s settling into Alec, fear not only for Magnus, but for everyone involved in this situation. Humor usually serves to agitate Alec in tense situations.

“I know.” Magnus says quietly, smiling sweetly at Alec in a way that has Alec relaxing instantly. “I know.”

Magnus takes his spellbook and opens it, tilting his head at the Latin on the page as he holds his hand out. The rest of them arrange themselves on the points of the pentagram, setting their feet shoulder-length apart and bracing themselves for the circuit of power. Magnus shuts his book and puts it down, beginning to chant in Latin.

Across the circle from him, Clary holds his gaze, nodding once. _You can do this_ she mouths at him, and he nods back, heart hammering in his throat.

Magnus is the first one to hold out his hand, and the circle closes quickly after that, a chain reaction racing from Alec to Jace to Izzy to Clary and back to Magnus. Jace can feel the power from the Latin spilling out of Magnus’ mouth, and as the middle of the pentagram starts to bubble and smoke like a pot of boiling water, Jace feels his heart rate pick up and he can feel in his gut that this is something that he will not quickly forget. The smoke is coming in thicker and thicker with every incantation that falls from Magnus’ lips, and as he reaches the end of the spell, Belial slinks out of the hole in the middle of the circle once more.

“Son of Asmodeus, why have you summoned me again?” The demon says, sighing gustily. It slips into it’s middle-aged man look once again, looking mildly at Magnus with reproach in it’s - his - eyes. “Surely you’re not looking for my excellent conversing skills?”

“You took what was not yours to take in the last summoning,” Magnus booms, “and you sent something of yourself into this world, where it does not belong. You broke the contract of summoning.”

“On the _contrary_ .” The man says, his smart looking oxfords clicking merrily as he spins to face Jace, who stares back at him, stony-faced, rage building somewhere deep inside him. “This one said - and I quote - ‘take your payment and _leave_ ’. I can do whatever I want!” He smiles gleefully at Jace, and Jace opens his mouth, but stops when Izzy squeezes her nails sharply into his hands as a warning.

“Payment was his memories.” Magnus snarls. “It was not the hate you sent after.”

“Who says I did _anything_ of the sort?” The demon smirks, lazily stuffing his hands in his pockets. “I didn’t send any extra magic.”

Magnus, to everyone’s surprise, smiles, his teeth bared and his eyes glowing brightly.

“You underestimate me, _prince_ .” Magnus says mockingly. “I am the son of _Asmodeus_ . You cannot _lie_ to me.”

“Of course I - “ Belial stops suddenly, looking down at his chest in surprise as Magnus whispers a word in Latin and Belial’s chest begins to glow. “No. _No!_ What have you done?”

“I caught you in a lie.” Magnus says. “And now you are bound by your own tipping of the scales.”

“ _No_ !” Belial shrieks. He twists and turns, growing in size into his horned form, his beady black eyes glaring at Magnus. “I have never met a warlock who could catch lies - what _trickery_ \- “

“As I said, you vastly underestimate my power.” Magnus says slowly. “Now, cooperate, _demon_.” Belial snarls and turns in the circle, staring hungrily at each of them, before he stops in front of Jace.

“I don’t have to agree to give back the memories.” He whispers to Jace, the sound carrying. “I owe you something, yes - but I can do what I like with the memories. I do so _enjoy_ your pain, and these memories - well! They’re quite _revealing_ , you know.”

“I don’t.” Jace spits out tightly. “That’s the fucking problem, isn’t it.” Belial laughs, delighted.

“A firecracker, just like before. Oh, my magic really has done a number on you. Shall that be my favor to you? Keep the rage burning in your chest? It’ll make you a better fighter, you know - stronger, almost perfect - “

“I don’t want anything but my memories.” Jace growls.

“Oh, but that would be too easy, wouldn’t it now!” Belial snarls, eyes gleaming with a look of cruel satisfaction. “You know, I am feeling quite _charitable_ today. You can have your memories back -”

Jace feels a huge rush of relief floof through his chest, before he hears Belial finish his sentence.

“ - on one condition.”

“What?” Jace snarls, careful not to say what he’s really thinking _anything of course I’ll do anything._ The demon's eyes flash red for a moment before his lips curl up in a twisted grin.

“Here is my deal. Nephilim, you can have your memories back, but once you do, you can _never_ speak to the vampire again. If you do, I will rise from the pits of Hell and I will kill him in the slowest way possible and make you watch. Am I clear?”

Jace feels a twisting in his gut as he weighs the consequences. At this point, he doesn’t know Sim - the vampire enough to really feel that loss, but what would happen after he gets his memories? Dimly, he can hear the rest of the group shouting at him, can feel Izzy’s nails digging into his palm, but he doesn’t care.

“Jace, don’t do this to yourself!”

“You’ll never be able to talk to him, can’t you see what that’ll do to you?”

“Jace, _DON’T._ ”

“I accept your offer.” Jace grits out, ignoring the cries from his friends as he stares straight into the molten black eyes of Belial. The demon throws his head back and laughs, a horrible grating sound echoing throughout the room, and Jace suddenly feels that he’s made a very big mistake.

“Oh, I am going to have _so_ much fun watching you suffer.” Belial snarls and launches towards Jace, once again melting into Simon’s form. Jace feels himself instinctively pull away, but Izzy and Alec have too strong of a hold on him to break the circle. Jace can feel Simon’s - no, Belial’s breath on his cheek, and before he can turn away he grabs his chin roughly and yanks him into a kiss.

Almost immediately, the blue film returns, running straight into Jace’s heart, but he doesn’t see, doesn’t _care_ because it hurts, it hurts like a million knives slicing through his brain and he wants to _scream_ because _this is it, this is what dying feels like_ and it's too much all at once -

_blue skies and white clouds and a feeling of home and safe and free -_

he can’t take this anymore he doesn’t want this anymore he wants it to stop -

_dazzling brown eyes that keep him awake at night, all of the love in his body poured out onto the keys of the piano -_

if this is the cost of love, if this is the cost to be loved Jace would rather die than suffer another moment of this -

_the feeling of a solid body underneath his, warm and steady and real and if Jace could communicate through touch alone he would be screaming I love you I love youIloveyouIloveyouSimonILOVEYOU -_

And it stops.

For an interminable second, he’s staring at Belial, unseeing, his heart hammering in his chest as the world seems to still around him and he remembers Simon, a well of hope rising quickly through him, and then -

Belial smiles, twisting back into his original form, and holds up one hand, conjuring up a distorted image of Simon impaled on Belial’s sharpened claw, blood streaming down his battered body, his eyes staring, limp and defeated, at Jace -

“Don’t forget.” Belial whispers, and Jace screams, because the pain is still a dull throb in the back of his mind but more importantly he thinks that if he can never talk to Simon again then he’d rather die. The only thing keeping him on his feet are Alec and Izzy’s hands, holding him up even as his legs buckle underneath him. He can barely breathe through the choking sobs ripping out of his mouth, can’t even think through the litany of _what have I done_ running through his mind. Dimly, he hears Belial laughing, a horrible, grating noise like nails across a chalkboard, and he falls to his knees, sobs wracking his body. Izzy and Alec are yanked down with him, and they’re _screaming_ at him, move, move, but he can’t do anything but stare at the image of Simon, and this -

_the falcon, staring with dead eyes, everything he loves has led to only death, it hurts -_

He’s overwhelmed with grief, his heart filled with everything he can remember about Simon now, his laugh and his soft touch and all those months, spent falling in love in ways he had never understood love could be like; love, in every moment they’d spent together, and now he’ll never get a moment more -

Through the haze of his tears and blind grief, he sees a vision; Simon, bursting through the door with fire blazing in his eyes, a knife in his hands and his fangs bared, flanked by Raphael and Luke, like vengeful angels.

He’s hallucinating, his mind trying desperately to cling to Simon before he has to say goodbye forever, but all he can think of as he slumps forward and shuts his eyes is that his mind could have at least put Simon in something besides that blue button-up; the hallucination looks so beautiful it hurts.

. 

When Simon hears Jace scream, he _knows_.

“Now.” Luke says from next to him, and he doesn’t need any more prompting; he grabs the hilt of the knife Raphael gave him and bursts into the room, his eyes skittering over the situation. Magnus is standing tall, his voice bellowing in Latin as smoke rolls out of the pentagram furiously, Belial slamming against the lopsided summoning circle. Alec, Clary, and Izzy are all swaying back and forth desperately trying to keep the circle closed, because Jace -

Simon’s heart clenches because Jace is kneeling on the ground, choking out tears and barely breathing at the same time. He’s slumped forward, eyes screwed tightly shut with waterfalls of tears pouring out, shoulders shaking with every breath that forces its way out of his throat, and Simon sees _red._

He doesn’t even stop to think before he launches into the room, fangs bared and knife drawn. The demon twists around to face him, lips curled in a snarl and black eyes staring daggers into his soul, but Simon doesn’t care. All he can see is Jace on the floor behind him, folded over and screaming with a visceral pain that Simon can feel in his very core.

He hits the demon in the chest as it dodges, both of them staggering backwards. Claws rake over his arm, tearing through his shirt and leaving angry red lines right across his chest. Dimly, he can hear Magnus in the background saying “Raphael! The containment device! Now!” and in return, Raphael tossing him a small gold object, but his vision is quickly broken when Belial bats him across the room, sending him flying into the wall. As his head hits the stone, he groans in pain, and through blurred eyes he can see that even though the circle is broken, Belial is still trapped within the confines of the pentagram.

Luke launches forward now, dodging Belial’s wild swing and grasping his arm; Raphael circles around to the other arm, neatly jumping out of the way of claws and twisting it. Belial _shrieks_ , wild and frenzied, and Simon coughs as he stands up, wiping blood from his arm, and he lunges forward again.

This time he leans his weight back, pivots as Belial struggles to push forward, hampered by Luke and Raphael wrestling him down. He brings his blade up and slices it around with precision he learned from Raphael and Jace, cutting deep into the demon’s serpentine skin, and Belial crumples to his knees, chest heaving in a grotesque mockery of the position Jace is currently in.

 _Jace_. Simon bares his fangs at Belial, writhing this way and that, his anger mounting exponentially as he remembers everything the past few days has done to him. To the both of them.  

“ _Now_ , Simon!” Luke shouts.

“You can’t kill _me_!” Belial hisses, a forked tongue flicking in and out of his mouth, rows of sharp teeth gleaming. They don’t scare Simon, not anymore, because his own teeth shine brightly under the lights, and though he’s has angel blood now he’s still got demon venom running thick through his veins, and in this moment - he doesn’t think he’ll ever be afraid to protect the people he loves.

“Go to hell.” Simon says lowly, a rough edge to his voice, and even as Belial’s eyes widen he brings his blade up and slams it deep into the demon’s chest. Ichor floods out around his fingers as Belial wheezes around the knife, form flickering wildly between human and monster. Simon twists the knife sharply, an unsaid threat of _if you_ **_ever_ ** _try this again, I will hunt you down and bring you a thousand deaths worse than this._ The demon wheezes out one last breath and falls backwards, landing on the stone floor with a wet noise as Simon pulls the blade out of him. A flick of the wrist from Magnus banishes the body, and just like that, it’s over.

The room is quiet, save for Jace’s ragged sobs and the heavy breathing of the others. Simon looks around at them, staring at him with shock carved onto their faces, uncertainty in the way their hands hover over their weapons. He silently sends them a pleading look, and it jars them into action, all moving towards the door simultaneously. Luke nods at him as he leaves, a comforting gesture, and Clary gives him a tight smile, exhaustion settling into the lines of her body. Magnus disappears last, closing the door with a click of finality, and then they are alone.

Simon walks to Jace slowly, every instinct in him screaming to run and gather him up close, kiss him and tell him exactly how he feels, how he’s felt since the day they met. But he doesn’t, caught in the sudden stillness of the room, the strange finality of killing the demon. Instead, every step closer feels like an added weight, until he’s right in front of the boy shaking apart on the floor, all because of _him_.

 .

Jace can’t breathe.

He hasn’t pulled his hands away from his face for the past few minutes, trying to keep the hallucination of Simon charging in to rescue him. He heard the sounds of a battle, but that’s impossible, because Simon was never here, and he would never do that for someone who tried to kill him barely four hours ago; it’s Belial’s magic, it must be, taunting him with cruel, sharp strokes of memory. He can’t even stop _crying_ like a fool because the only thing that’s flashing through his brain is his falcon, dead and glassy-eyed in his father’s hands, right next to Simon, body beaten and bloodied to unrecognition. He’s trying to suck air back into his lungs, trying to find some sort of hope to cling to, when he feels a hand on his shoulder.

Alarmed, he whips his head up, ready to try and fight off Belial or whoever it may be, hand instinctively going to his blade when his brain catches up with his eyes and -

It’s Simon.

The well of hope from earlier comes back in full force, looking into Simon’s eyes, full of pain, yet pride, at the same time. He’s here, he’s actually _here_ , and Jace can’t help himself as he pushes himself to his feet and clutches at Simon’s neck -

Before shoving him away and scrambling back towards the wall as if he’d been burned by fire.

“Jace? What’s - what’s wrong?” Simon says worriedly, hands coming out to try and catch Jace as he falls back, but Jace won’t, he can’t do this again, and he makes a wounded noise as his back hits the wall.  

“He’ll _kill_ you,” he gasps, and Simon’s eyebrows draw low in a puzzled expression, “you can’t talk to me Simon, he’ll - please, fuck, get out - “

“He’s dead, Jace.” Simon says slowly, frowning. “He can’t get to you anymore.”

“No,” Jace shakes his head, a hand coming to claw at the spot above his heart, “he’s in me, he controlled me, he can’t - he’s everywhere - “

“I killed him.” Simon says, his voice strong as he looks at Jace. “You didn’t think I’d let him torment you forever, did you?”

Jace can feel his heart beating in his chest, erratically thumping as he looks at Simon, drinking in the sight of him. He feels parched, hungry, and he wants to memorize the slope of Simon’s cheekbones before Belial takes that away too.

“He’ll kill you.” Jace repeats, and his voice breaks, but Simon bends down and picks something up, showing Jace a dagger - _his_ dagger, apparently.

“Ichor.” Simon says. “I killed him, Jace. We’re safe. _You’re_ safe.”

Jace stares at him, something fluttering hopefully in the back of his mind as he takes in the smears of blood across cuts in Simon’s arms, the sickly hue of the blood on the blade, the way Simon’s standing, strong and solid before him.

“ _Me_ .” Jace laughs brokenly, his hand coming up to drag through his hair, and his fingers are shaking again. He thinks they might never stop. “It doesn’t matter if I’m safe, you - I tried to _kill_ you.”

“I said I would never blame you, and I mean it.” Simon says softly. He looks consideringly at Jace, his eyes indescribably gentle, and then, bizarrely, he sticks his hand out and smiles.

He’s _smiling_ , his same stupid grin that shows off all his teeth, his cheeks dimpling slightly, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he stares at Jace. His hair is in disarray, bruises fading from his neck and dried blood across his arms, but he looks so beautiful. Faintly, Jace thinks he’d never going to see anything more beautiful in his life.

“You wanna start over?” Simon asks, oblivious to the way Jace’s heart is soaring, too big for his chest. Simon’s still grinning at him, even as he says, “The name’s Lewis. Simon Lewis. Two first names, I know, it’s - “

Jace pushes away Simon’s outstretched hand and launches himself forward, his hands coming up to fist in Simon’s shirt as he yanks Simon closer and kisses the living _shit_ out of him. Simon is confused for a moment, hands flailing as he tries to process what’s going on before his brain finally catches up to his mouth and he kisses Jace back, one arm winding around Jace’s back and the other knotting in Jace’s hair. Jace can’t stop pulling Simon closer, closer, _closer,_ just wanting to feel the lines of his body and the certainty that comes with it. Its desperate and slow at the same time, and they both taste salt from Jace’s tears, blood from where Simon’s fangs accidentally snag on Jace’s lips. Jace pulls back just enough to dive in again, licking carefully around Simon’s sharper teeth, and he can’t get enough, his hand unfurling from Simon’s shirt and sliding to the back of Simon’s neck to pull him in even more. Jace is a starving man and Simon is the only thing that he’ll need ever again, and he kisses him like it’s true.

They break apart after a small eternity, both breathing heavily - and in Simon’s case, unnecessarily - and resting their foreheads on one another's, eyes still closed, fingers curled loosely around each other. Jace ducks down and buries his face in Simon’s neck, squeezes his eyes shut and inhales deeply, trying to memorize the feeling of _safety_ and _home_ , the way Simon smells like sweat and demon blood, but also, underneath it all, like old wood and apple shampoo. Bizarrely, it reminds him of sunshine. _Simon_ reminds him of the sun.

“If this is a dream,” Jace mumbles hoarsely into the crook of Simon’s neck, “I don’t want to wake up.”

“No - Jace - look at me, c’mon.” Simon says gently nudging Jace’s face up and combing his fingers through the hair at the nape of Jace’s neck. He just looks tired now, weary and exhausted but still so fond, his eyes fixed on Jace like he can’t get enough. “This isn’t a dream.” He takes a deep breath, sliding his other hand down to Jace’s waist and digging his fingertips in hard enough to bruise, and Jace knows then that Simon’s just as scared and uncertain as he is.

“I don’t know,” Simon continues, his voice small, “what might happen before I get the chance to say this, so - “

“No.” Jace interrupts, and his voice is surprisingly clear, but he presses their foreheads together and wills Simon to understand. “You’ve been through enough. Let me - let me talk first. You deserve to hear it, I - I love you, Simon.”

Simon sucks in a sharp breath, fingers digging into Jace’s skin just that much harder. Instead of replying, Simon pulls Jace into another kiss, slower and calmer than the first, trying to convey that the words _I love you_ won’t ever be enough to describe how he feels about Jace, but knowing that it’s a good place to start. Jace responds slowly, dragging his fingers through Simon’s hair and down his neck, locking around his waist and leaning in for more before Simon pulls away.

“Wait, I gotta - I love you too, Jace.” Simon says, in a rush of breath, and Jace feels like he’s been punched in the gut, because logically some part of him _knew_ , but to hear the words out loud -

It’s a promise, steadfast and unyielding, something that can last through demons and amnesia and split necks and broken hearts. He thinks of himself, watching the falcon die, and he thinks _never again_ , and he thinks of Valentine, slicing Simon’s neck open, and he _knows_ \- never again. He’ll come back to Simon always, he vows silently, even if he has to crawl through hellfire and brimstone. He doesn’t know how, but he thinks that Simon is doing the same.

“Thank you. For coming back.” Jace gets out weakly, just trying to fill the empty space with something other than silence and the fear of a future that is no longer just _me,_ but _them, us._

“Jace - I will always come back.”

“You mean it?”

“Every word.”

There’s so much they don’t know, and so much they could fuck up, but right now, Jace feels like he could kill Valentine a thousand times with Simon by his side.

Always.

.

 

_xxv._

_Alec looks relieved when they come out holding hands, a tension dropping from his shoulders. Simon imagines it can’t have been easy beating back his own parabatai again, trying to protect Simon at the same time._

_“Thank you.” Simon says, and Alec shrugs, wrapping his arm tighter around an exhausted Magnus, but he’s smiling slightly as he nods at Simon._

_Clary launches herself forward to hug both of them, her grip tight as she smooths her thumb over the unbroken skin on Simon’s neck._

_“Thank God this is over.” Is all she says, and then she promptly turns and stumbles straight into Izzy’s arms. “I’m so tired. I could sleep for centuries.”_

_“I will be sleeping for centuries.” Luke says, clapping Simon on the shoulder. He makes an I’m watching you gesture at Jace. “Let’s try to keep the demon summoning to a minimum next week, yeah?”_

_“I wholeheartedly agree.” Magnus says tightly, leaning into Alec’s shoulder. “You all owe me thousands in back pay by now.”_

_“You can have my firstborn.” Jace says fervently, and Simon raises his eyebrows._

_“I don’t want that.” Magnus sniffs, and there’s a beat of silence before Izzy bursts out laughing, and everyone follows suit, even Raphael, and they laugh for a little too long, relieved at everything going back to a relative normal._

_“I’m heading back.” Raphael finally says, sighing as he looks at Simon. “We’re still having a talk. No, don’t get up Magnus, you’ve done enough. No portals. Just rest.” He nods at the rest of them._

_“You’re all welcome to stay in any of the guest rooms.” Magnus says, waving a hand haphazardly at the hallway. “I think a few more have spawned, anyway.”_

_“I need to get back to the DuMort.” Raphael says, and he turns to leave._

_“Thank you.” Simon calls out to his back, and Raphael grunts, but Simon knows him well enough to know he’s shaking his head and rolling his eyes fondly. Getting rid of Belial is a step forward for the vampires, too, and it’s a headache off Raphael’s plate; Simon’s glad it’s worked out this way._

_“I need to get back to Alaric.” Luke says, and he slips out too, hugging Simon and Clary briefly. Magnus looks at the rest of them, and claps his hand._

_“Bed.” He announces. “Everyone needs to sleep. We’re not waking up tomorrow until midday at least. You’ve all been here before, you know where everything goes. Good night.”_

_The next few minutes pass in a flurry of all of them saying good-night to each other and stumbling to guest rooms, Izzy practically carrying Clary to theirs. Jace keeps a tight grip on Simon’s hand as he tugs him towards the room he usually takes, and Simon goes willingly, face-planting straight onto the bed._

_“I never want to go through this again, this has been a nightmare, we need to go on a real date.” He says, his brain just spitting out errant thoughts in his tiredness. The activity of the last day or so is catching up to him, leaving him sluggish and drained. He feels something tugging at his shoes, and he rolls over to let Jace get his shoes off, briefly breathless at the sight of Jace kneeling in front of him, his hair falling in front of his face as he eases Simon’s beat up tennis shoes off his feet._

_“Never let me summon a demon by myself again.” Jace bemoans, and Simon snorts as he kicks his socks off and gets underneath the covers._

_“Are you kidding me?” He asks as he watches Jace kick off his own boots. “I’m installing a body camera on you, I swear.”_

_“As you wish.” Jace hums, and Simon grins in delight, covering his face with his hands._

_“I’m dating a nerd.” Simon says giddily, and Jace laughs at that, a rich sound, and with a start Simon realizes that it feels like it’s been forever since he’s heard Jace laugh. The bed dips, and Simon rolls over to face Jace, who immediately pillows his head on Simon’s chest and slings an arm around his waist._

_“I’m going to get you a leash.” Simon says, yawning as curls his arm protectively around Jace’s back and pressing a light kiss to Jace’s hair. “You know the ones parents have their misbehaving children on? Yours is going to be pink, you fucking asshole.”_

_“I can totally rock pink.” Jace says confidently, his fingers creeping up the hem of Simon’s shirt to draw invisible patterns against his hipbones. “Pink is definitely my color.”_

_“It’s not funny.” Simon says, and he didn’t even mean to but now that he has it’s suddenly true and he blinks back sudden tears, emotion choking his throat. “It’s not, Jace, I - “_

_“I know.” Jace says seriously, and he pushes himself up to press a soft, reassuring kiss to Simon’s lips. “I’m not saying it’s going to be easy to move past this, but - we’re here now. This is real. I love you.”_

_“I love you too.” Simon says, and it reassures something in him to say the words out loud. Jace lays back down and snuggles back into Simon, and Simon holds him close, exhausted. He thinks he can feel Jace’s fingers shaking slightly between them._

_Their future, he thinks, isn’t going to be an easy one. He sees sleepless nights, nightmares, moments where Jace will wake up in a cold sweat and look at him with terror in his eyes, afraid that Belial’s come back and snatched him again. They’ll fight, over stupid things and not so stupid things, and they’ll storm away and say things that they don’t mean but they’ll come back. They’re always going to come back to each other, through every fight, through every nightmare, through every bump in the road because they know that they can’t make it without each other._

_And that, Simon thinks as he drops off to sleep, is a promise worth fighting demons for._

 


End file.
